Daily Prompt – Back Of The Queue

Is there something you’ve always wanted to do, but never got around to starting (an activity, a hobby, or anything else, really)? Tell us about it — and tell us about what’s keeping you from doing it.

I’ve always wanted to be able to go back in time and re-do my life. But I can’t.

Why?

Because, fucking time travel hasn’t been invented yet.

Daily Prompt: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)

What is the best dream you’ve ever had? Recount it for us in all its ethereal glory. If no dream stands out in your memory, recount your worst nightmare. Leave no frightening detail out.

I often have quite bizarre dreams that I can never quite make sense of. I know that dreams are meant to a visual representation of our sub-consciousness, but my dreams simply make nonsense whatsoever, and they’re quite jumpy and disconnected. Most of the time in those immediate moments after waking up from one of these dreams, I lay in bed thinking to myself ‘what the fuck was that?! and then I scramble for my iPad to try and not down as much as I can in point-form so then I can go back later and expand on those points for a more detailed recollection.

I can’t say that I’ve got a particular dream that would consider the best I’ve ever had, but there is one dream in particular that I did used to have quite often. Unfortunately, this dream was actually a frequent nightmare. And this was a nightmare that I had quite regularly as a child, and even experienced it a number of times during my teens, and even through my adult life. I’m not entirely sure what it is about this dream that has stuck around in my sub-conscious for so many years, but it’s clearly got to be quite significant.

But the strange thing is, that none of it actually makes sense. And yet it manages to completely terrify me.

It starts off with the image of an old lady sitting on a park bench. In front of her is a footpath, and then a road which never seems to have any traffic. Behind her is a big hill, with incredibly luscious green grass. The rolling green hills behind her meet the clear blue sky and the sun is shining. As the dream progresses, the image starts to pan around from one side of the old lady, past the front of her, and to the other side, and then back. Each transition is quite slow, and it gradually begins to zoom in on her. Eventually a couple of birds begin to enter the scene and start hopping around on the footpath.

Meanwhile, in the background, there is a feint sound. It’s hard to hear, but it’s enough to completely break the silence of the old lady on the bench. It’s quite a mechanical sound… like it’s a series of factory machines or something – clanging and banging, hissing and popping. Then, as the sound begins to become more prominent, there’s a momentary FLASH on the screen of something made of metal. There’s a lot of heat, which I can feel, but the sound just begins to get louder.

I can’t make out what the machine is, but I know that it’s not good.

The vision then goes back to the lady on the bench. She hasn’t moved at all, but there’s now a few birds jumping around at her feet.

FLASH!

It’s the monster. This time, the image stays for a fraction longer, and starts to get louder. The image is all different shades of black, grey and red. There’s a distinct heat, and something quite unsettling about this machine.

Back to the old lady on the bench. She’s now noticed the birds, and has tilted her head, and smiled. She doesn’t actually seem to be moving very much. She’s remained quite static, almost as though she were a mannequin.

FLASH!

It’s the monster. This time the image has started to zoom out slightly, I can see something that resembles a jaw, and what looks to be teeth. It’s definitely not friendly, and the mechanical noise that it’s making is getting louder and louder.

Meanwhile, the old lady on the bench still hasn’t seemed to notice the increasing sound of this monster. I wonder if she can even hear it, or is she completely oblivious?

FLASH!

The image of the monster has zoomed out some more. I can now see a distinct head. It’s almost dinosaur-like, but fully mechanical. Sort of like some kind of Transformer dinosaur robot… who plans on nothing but destruction.

Meanwhile, the old lady on the bench has now started to pull some bread out of her purse and is throwing tiny pieces at the birds.

How is she not hearing this noise?

FLASH!

The Monster appears to be getting bigger and bigger. The heat is increasing more and more with every appearance. I can feel myself sweating, and as the image goes back to the old lady, I can see her sweating as well, so clearly the temperature is rising everywhere.

FLASH!

The Monster begins to stand, and lets out a roar and a giant ball of fire. I feel as though it’s hot enough to burn my skin.

Back at the Old Lady, she’s oblivious to anything else. She obviously can’t hear the noise of the monster.

Something in the pit of my stomach tells me that the monster is planning on eating the old lady… but she can’t see me, so I can’t warn her. I don’t exist to her.

FLASH!

The monster has started to look around and has spotted me. Suddenly the camera zooms right out, and I realise that this Monster is at least the size of a 40-storey building. The noise that it creates is unbearable. It lets out another blood-curdling scream, and a couple of balls of fire, and then it focuses it’s gaze on me. I see it’s eyes narrow, and there’s a rumble that is so loud it completely vibrates the ground like a major earthquake. I lose my footing and fall over as I’m backing away and hit my head on the ground. Hard. Although I am aware that I’m dreaming, and I am aware that none of this is real, I am also aware that I can now feel an excruciating pain in the back of my head, but I know that I’m asleep and I can’t do anything about it.

Just as I begin to scramble backwards on my hands, the image flips back to the old lady. She’s still feeding the birds, and is quite content. She has a smile on her face, as though she’s the happiest lady in the world.

FLASH!

The monster begins to take it’s first giant steps. It unleashes itself from where it has been anchored into the ground as part of the factory, and starts making some very slow and precise giant steps towards me.

By this stage, all I can see around me is intense shades of red, grey and black and I can feel that my clothes are either going to combust or melt from the heat, so I need to remove them. I need water, but there’s nothing around. Even the ground is getting hotter and hotter. I can see my sweat pouring off my forehead and arms, and evaporating instantly as it hits the ground. My skin is burning upon contact and the pain is constantly growing and becoming more and more unbearable.

Back to the Old Lady, who still can’t hear anything. I can see her still sitting there as the ground violently shakes. I can see her sweating through all her clothes. Trees and poles are falling down around her, but she remains with a smile on her face as though nothing is happening.

FLASH!

The fear of imminent death is all I can think of. I can’t die. If you die in your dream, you die in real life, right? The Monster appears to be getting slightly faster, I feel as though I’m running as fast as I possibly can, but I don’t really seem to be getting anywhere. I almost feel as though I’m barely moving, despite moving my legs so fast. I can see it getting closer. I can feel the intensity of the heat all around me.

Back to the Old Lady. The green hills are beginning to change colour. The grass is beginning to die from the heat and starting to turn a light dusty yellow colour. The sky is no longer blue. It’s begun to change from shades of blue to shades of dark orange. The air has become hot and thick.

FLASH!

The Monster is moving faster than I could have anticipated. I can feel it getting closer and closer. I’m not going to escape. This is it. This is how it ends for me… The air around me is so thick and so hot, just something as simple as breathing is becoming too painful for me. The hot air is so thick and so hot, it just burns all the way down my esophagus and into my lungs. I think I’ve only got a few slow deep breaths left before I cant bear it any longer.

The Old Lady has finished her bread and the birds have flown away, except for one, who has died from the heat. The Old Lady has started to turn very pale and is dripping with sweat. The grass has completely died and the sky that was one a cool, refreshing blue, is now a hot and dirty red colour. The ground is shaking violently, and the Old Lady still doesn’t seem to be noticing.

FLASH!

I run and I run and I run. I know that I’m on some cliff-side track that is purely rocks, which keeps shaking from the footsteps of The Monster. Suddenly, in the distance, I see something that looks slightly different. I can see the previously-spotted hill, and realise that that will be my salvation. The Monster only exists in a nasty alternate universe. It won’t be able to cross over, will it?

I see myself run over the hill and start to shake the Old Lady to try and get some reaction out of her motionless body. Nothing. The ground is still shaking, and the air is excruciating. I can’t handle this any longer.

Following behind closely, The Monster begins to make its way over the top of the hill. It gets to the top and looks around. There’s a sudden silence before it lets out this blood-curdling ear-piercing scream. It’s definitely angry about something.

I’m still trying to get the Old Lady off the bench and to safety, but it’s not working very well. The Monster begins it’s descent down the hill; charging directly towards me. As it gets closer, I feel my skin getting quite hot, and slowly beginning to melt. All I can feel is excruciating pain, and all I want is to be safe, but I can’t see that happening.

As I’m (attempting) to drag this old lady out of harms way, I drop her arms as her skin begins to melt in my hands. It’s too late. I need to just accept my fate.

The Monster gets so close, and lets out another roar and a couple of fireballs. One of them hits the old lady in the legs, setting her on fire, and melting directly through the muscle and the bone. She doesn’t even flinch. I think that she’s dead.

The Monster bows its head down and grabs the Old Lady by her melting, fiery legs and gobbles her up like it’s nothing. He stops, roars and bends down to eat me…

…and at that point I wake up.

Granted, sometimes I wake up completely drenched in sweat, or I wake screaming in sheer terror.

It’s one of those dreams that is a bit ridiculous, and I don’t understand, but still terrifies me whenever I have it.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/26/daily-prompt-sweet-dreams/

Daily Prompt: World’s Best Widget

You’ve been granted magical engineering skills, but you can only use them to build one gadget or machine. What do you build?

Am I the only person who read that and instantly thought of Widget: The World Watcher?

With my magical engineering skills, I would develop and create a machine that would allow people to record their dreams.

Have you ever had a dream that plays out like a movie? Or perhaps you just see an assortment of static images, like photographs, and would like to know what they were or what they mean? Or maybe you have the kind of dreams that are full of people, but you can never remember what their faces are like?

Nightmares. Nonsense. Symbolic. ‘Cheese Dreams’. Adventure. Déjà vu . Confusion, terror, happiness are all things that we experience in our dreams, however sometimes as much as we wish we could remember the what’s, how’s, who’s, where’s and why’s of our dreams, the reality is, that it’s not necessarily that simple.

For me, I sometimes find myself dreaming around 5-6am in the morning, and as soon as I wake up, I grab my iPad and my bluetooth keyboard and will sit in bed tapping away, primarily making basic notes to jolt my memory enough to be able to then go back and elaborate on each point to create a flowing dialogue of what I just experienced in my strange and bizarre brain.

Sometimes I can have a really basic dream: I’ll be sitting in a cafe, and then somebody will talk to me, and then I’ll walk into a shop, and suddenly I’m in a completely different city, or I’ll walk through a doorway to a clothing shop and I’ll be at the beach or something weird like that.

But at other times, I’ll have dreams that make absolutely no sense, yet just seem completely terrifying because I’m in such a deep sleep and an altered state of consciousness. Those moments I have dreams like the video montage from The Ring

You all know the video.

But I would love to be able to record them so I could make more sense out of them, or even better, take them to an interpreter who would be able to tell me what I already know…

I don’t actually know how it would work. I guess there would be some kind of helmet covered with electrodes that would sit on the head, but then there would need to be something that would connect perhaps to the optic nerve? Or maybe some kind of brain stem? But then how would that happen?

It would be great to be able to have the technology to be able to develop some kind of microscopic implant (kind of like the one’s I’ve seen on Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.). That could then stream the video wirelessly to some kind of recording device, kind of like a DVR, and would be waiting for you to review when you wake up.

I was just wondering, would the implant go on the optic nerve, or would it be implanted in the brain somewhere. When we dream and we see images, are we seeing the images with our eyes, or is our brain making us think that the images are being seen through our eyes? When really, they are being created by the brain, but it’s just tricking us into seeing the images, even though we’re asleep and our eyes are closed.

Confused yet? I am.

I think that in itself is it’s own kind of research project, to determine whether the eyes actually see the images in our dreams, or if it all comes from the brain. How does it work? What creates it? What are the chemicals at work that make us dream, and what are the chemicals in the body / brain that determine what type of dream we have.

Why do we have ‘cheese dreams’ after having cheese. What is it about the cheese that causes some kind of dysfunction in the brain when we go to sleep and completely distort our thoughts / dreams?

 

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/07/daily-prompt-machines/

Daily Prompt: Now You See Me

You have a secret superpower: the ability to appear and disappear at will. When and where will you use this new superpower? Tell us a story.

I remember when I was younger, I would often write stories about a boy who could either make himself go invisible, or, had the ability to fly. Sometimes even both.

I vaguely remember one of these stories I wrote, was about a boy. I remember that I wrote it for a creative / free writing assessment task. I still remember the day I wrote it. I was in my english class, full of dickheads. Somebody had thrown a small pot of glue at the fan on the ceiling, and it exploded, and lumpy, chunky translucent globs went flying all over the classroom. It was all over the walls, all over the floor, and all over the students. They, the bullies, thought it was hilarious, so they did it again. Then they followed up with a couple of bananas. When the teacher walked in, she was beside herself. She demanded to know who was responsible, but everybody was too afraid of the bullies to say anything, so the whole class received lunchtime detention for a whole week. That afternoon, after school, I went and told the teacher who was responsible. She said she would keep it anonymous.

She obviously didn’t understand what anonymous actually meant. She turned around and told them that I was the one who demonstrated the most confidence to stand up for my classmates, and that they should all thank me for getting them off lunchtime detention.

…fucking retard.

Although I wrote it about 13 years ago, and I don’t have an actual copy of it anywhere, I can still pretty much remember the foundation and structure of it. It went a little like this:

________________________________________________________________________

He was different to all the other boys in his school. He liked dancing. He liked reading. He loved art. And writing. And drama.

He didn’t like football. He wasn’t interested in getting into trouble. He wasn’t into sports, either. A lot of the time, he would fake an injury or an illness just to get out of P.E. (Phys. Ed.) class. Sometimes, he’d even forge his mum’s signature on a note, because he was that desperate to not be involved.

He didn’t like school that much. He had a very small, close circle of friends. A lot of the other kids would pick on him. Daily. Everyday he would be bullied. They would call him names. Constantly.

Poofter.

Faggot.

Retard.

Loser.

Gaybo.

Homo.

Dickhead.

Pansy.

Every. Single. Day. Multiple times a day.

Sometimes he’d be thrown against a locker. Or have food thrown at him. Or he’d get his books knocked out of his hands. Sometimes the bullies would take his backpack and play keep-away and then throw it in the bin. A lot of the time his belongings ended up in the bin. Once they threw firecrackers at him. Once they threw a bomb bag at him, it landed on his backpack and exploded – some white substance went everywhere. It smelt like rotten egg and went solid like PVA glue. It ended up in his hair and he had to have it cut out.

He made complaints to his teachers, and they did nothing. He made complaints to his school principal, who also did nothing. A couple of teachers suggested that he was bringing it on himself. That he was causing it. One teacher told him he was just being ridiculous. Another teacher told him to stop acting like a child. One teacher actually stopped and sat down to listen to him, and as soon as they asked what was wrong, he broke down into tears in front of the teacher. They took him down to the Deputy Principal, and later that afternoon, all the bullies were called into his office.

Nothing happened to them. They were given a stern talking to, and basically told to never do it again.

The next day, they attacked.

They threw glue at him just before the school assembly started; threw water bombs at him just before he walked into class; filled his backpack with flour; stuck all the pages of a textbook together; cut a giant hole in the centre of a workbook; broke into his locker and threw the contents out onto the floor in the hallway. All of this happened in front of multiple teachers, who all turned a blind eye, and quickly looked the other way.

Out of sight, out of mind.

 

Sometimes he would wake up in the morning, and dread having to go to school, because he knew what would happen. Sometimes he’d find himself crying in the toilets. Sometimes, he’d feign an injury, just to go to sick bay and get sent home. He hated school. He was miserable. Sometimes, he would come home from school, fall onto the bed, and cry into his pillow until he fell asleep. Sometimes he would just refuse to go to school.

In his dreams he was strong, and he had magical powers. He could make himself invisible. In his dreams, he would stand up to his bullies. He would shout at them to stop, and confront them. He would be able to turn invisible, and then avoid their attacks. Initially, when he would retaliate, it started off simply by pushing them into each other, or knocking their heads together in cartoons. Sometimes he’d push them into puddles, or throw rubbish at them. The rest of the students would all see it happen. They’d all witness these bullies getting their just desserts. They would all cheer and he would be the hero.

If only!

As time passed, the dreams progressively more violent. He would turn invisible and start shoving them into walls, or picking them up and throwing them in giant rubbish bins and close the lids on them. Soon enough he was wielding weapons like metal bars, tree branches and bricks. Breaking noses, and arms; dislocating shoulders and smashing knee caps.

Soon enough his dreams stopped taking place in the school playground. He’d turn invisible and follow his tormentors home. Silently observing the interactions they had with their families. Trying to understand why they were full of so much hate towards him. Why were they constantly victimising him? The worse the bullies acted, the more deadly things were in his dreams. Sometimes he dreamt about turning invisible and harming himself, just so he could write their names in blood before he died. Sometimes he would be invisible and floating. Watching over them as they slept, smothering them with a pillow, or stabbing them when they were alone. Watching them die slowly, and painfully. Oh so painfully.

By the time he graduated high school, the dreams were all the same. They were all about death. Either his death, or the bullies death. And they always died violently. The last dream he had, was of one particular bully, the ring leader of the group. Again, he was invisible and floating, but he had developed super-human powers. He was now able to lift and move objects just using his mind. He didn’t understand how he could do it, he just knew that he could. He had a vision in his head. The Ring Leader had gotten into a car, and was on his way towards the school. It was the middle of the night, and there was nobody around.

As the ring leader drove up the hill, towards the school, He used his powers to drop a petrol tanker truck out of the sky, and drop it on the car. Crushing it instantly. He floated down to the ground, and became visible. He stood there waiting for somebody to come out to investigate what all the noise was, but nobody appeared. No other cars drove past. It was as though they were the only two people left. The petrol was gushing out of the truck and all over the car, pouring in through the shattered windscreen. The Ring Leader was screaming out for help. His eyes, blinded by blood from the cut on his forehead, he was trapped in the drivers seat.

He started laughing to himself. The Ring Leader heard the laughter and called out for help. He just kept walking closer and closer to the car. He crouched down to get right next to his ear and softly said ‘well, well, well… it would appear that you’ve gotten yourself into a spot of bother Mr Tinder*.’

‘OH GOD, PLEASE HELP ME!! GET ME OUTTA HERE!! I CAN’T SEE!!’

‘Well, see, there’s the problem. I could help you. I could easily make all of this stop, but you’ve been a very bad boy, Tinder. A VERY BAD BOY. And bad boys don’t deserve to be helped. They deserve everything you get.’

‘WHO ARE YOU? JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE!!’

‘Sorry, Tinder. That’s not going to happen. I’m going to stand here and enjoy watching you die. This is what you get. This is your karma. This is what happens when you spend years tearing somebody apart, destroying their spirit day after day, week after week, month after month, and think that it’s okay to do so. You are nothing but a vile excuse for a human being and you do not deserve to even BREATHE the same air as me. You have made my life a living hell every single day, but not anymore. I’m freeing myself from you. You’re nothing but a demon, and it’s time for you to go.’

And with that, he snapped his fingers and the car erupted into a giant fireball. At the flames engulfed the car, he heard nothing but screaming. He turned his back and walked away.

_________________________________________________________________________

 

 

 

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/12/03/prompt-see-me/