.: taking the bus :.

Just thought I'd post this illustration of another old Dream, 'Taking the bus'. I wish I had the time to do something with these characters, but for now they serve as a light of inspiration for what could have been. For a bigger preview, see it on my deviantart here!

.: still alive :.

Hello lovelies~

I know it's been a while since the last Dream post, but things have been hectic in real life. I graduated with my Psychology degree in February and have been trucking along, job-hunting and doing what I can do help my parents.

Things haven't been easy back home, what with the national scandal, the rising prices of everything and anything, the yellow shirts and red shirts. It's all been topsy turvy, and we're doing what we can to get by.

My hard drive went fried a while back and I lost a good bit of stuff, such as art and some pages of Dream journal. I salvaged what I could, but there are a few Dreams I need to rewrite. Because I've been tired and stressed out, I haven't been able to remember my Dreams like I used to. But I'm trying to get back into it, and will update when I have something really interesting to share.

I'd like to think that over time my writing skills have improved, so I'm thankful for that. Now I can write these Dreams down like actual bits of proses and short stories. I have actually plucked a few Dreams to rewrite and upload on my Wattpad, like 'A girl in a grey world' and 'Poor Harriet'.

And now you can find them and read them easily on Wattpad! Along with these illustrations of mine. Click here to check them out!

I have been working as a part-time lecturer at my university, which took up a whole lot of my time. And right now I'm gearing up for an interview for a one year contract as a full timer so I might not have a lot of free time once that actually pulls through. And I hope it does, cus it pays well! Haha but this post was just to advertise my Wattpad and to let you know I'm still alive~ And I will continue to update this blog, albeit slowly.

So if you've stuck around, reader, thank you so much. Hope you've been enjoying your stay so far. And as always, have a nice day/night and God bless!

-Love, Dyana.

. 05.02.14 drug doll .

I can no longer remember what I look like. Some days, I am pale with skin the color of pasty wallpaper and eyes as blue as a dingy bar’s neon lights.  Other days, I am flushed with red cheeks and glowing eyes of amber and beer bottles, and a ballerina’s step. One thing is for sure though, I am a walking drugstore. That is what I remember the most. That, and his smile.

Let me start over.

I am a walking drugstore. My bodily fluids have become chemicals people are starting to get addicted to. From my blood, to my sweat and tears, they sample me in the most undignified ways. They keep me around like a pet or livestock to be milked. I am a living doll, built with no other purpose but to be tied to a heater in the pharmacy’s back room and fill vials and needles when people come in for their fix.

I am a living doll, and I was slowly breaking.

At first it was no big deal. I’m not human, at least not entirely. I felt no pain when they first started taking samples. It started with simple blood transfusions. Patients and clients alike would inject my blood into their arms and streams, or shoot them up like cocaine. But the addiction progressively became worse, and people started to want more and more.

They would shoot up the chemicals in a variety of places. Beneath their toenails, their sclera, the veins on the underside of their tongue. One night a customer came in and needed a needle through his eyeball, though no one needed to tell him that both his eyes were as bloodshot as beets. They, my handlers, decided that they would use the same fluids from my eyeballs for this valued customer. And for the first time in my inanimated life, I felt afraid.

I suffered the surgery.

When it was done, I was kept in a secluded room to ‘heal’ or replenish what I’d lost in the darkness. This dark room was a tiny thing at the farther most back of the hellish clinic, right next to the back door. My room, of course, was locked. There was however a tiny window in my door where my handlers would slide open to check on me.

One night, while I was still recuperating in the darkness, I heard the little window slide. It was however not my handler, but a face I’d never seen before. He was not a regular either. In fact, he looked rather lost. He needed only seconds to process that I was in fact a prisoner he had found by coincidence and made it his mission to free me. I stared absent-mindedly as he tried the lock but bolted out of there the moment he opened the heavy door, and I took my hand in his the whole time I ran.

We were out in the wild streets, running and running till our legs felt like they could give out. Running till we felt like no more shadows were looming over our heads, or breathing down our necks. And then, in that part of unchartered city, it began to pour. Having found some shelter, the man –my rescuer– seemed upset at the rate things were turning out. He apologized about the fact that we were caught up in this wet mess and now that we were lost without a plan. He looked pained, as if he had failed before we had even begun anything.

I said nothing as I hugged him, pulling his drenched body close to mine. I hug him with my pasty wallpaper arms, as my cracked lips kiss him then and there. In a voice that didn’t even sound like my own, I said unto him that I would rather be here in this mess with him than back at that merciless sty.

I pull away and look up at him, burning the image of his smile into my memory. And it was that very night I found that I had fallen for his taste.

Oh my God it has been forever since my last update on this blog and I am so so sorry. Things have been busy ever since I graduated this February. Things have been topsy turvy, and I’ve just been all over the place trying to reorganize my life and be a productive member of society. That said, I haven’t been keeping note of my Dreams as of late and that kinda makes me sad. Even though I’m using this new app on my phone called Dreamboard, which makes it easier for me to document them the moment I wake up. The fact of it is, I just haven’t been remembering them as of late. And the ones I do remember aren’t eventful enough for me to write about. Anyways! Here’s a new Dream to add to the journal! If you’ve stuck around since the beginning of this blog, I’d just like to say thank you so much for your patience and I hope you still enjoy my content~

. corpse party .

  I can't quite remember how my persona looks like in this Dream, but I remember I was with two other girls and boys. One girl was a hazlenut brunette, with shoulder-length, layered hair and she was a bit of a bitch. The other had a bit of an Asian feature (since the other was Caucasian) with long, elbow-length, raven hair. She had a sweet disposition and clung to me like a friend would. There were two boys; one, tall African-American with a bit of a fro, and one normal, built guy with short, dark hair and teal eyes.

  We were investigating a cursed Japanese school after hearing reports of recent hauntings. We were already knee-deep in shit once we realized we couldn't back out. Just like the famous manga, Corpse Party Blood Covered, there were bodies strewn everywhere, organs and blood decorating the halls and floors. We were trapped in the school by supernatural forces, making it impossible for us to escape.

  My Asian friend was a bigger wreck than the rest of us, and she clung to me for emotional support. I was steadfast in leading the team for some reason, and I kept encouraging everyone to keep on going no matter what. The girls walked ahead and the boys kept watch from behind. We had been walking around for a while now, the halls and levels of the school continuously changing like a maze. We were getting tired, and needed a place to rest.

  Out of nowhere, a large sliding door appeared in the hallway and upon moving it open, we found a perfectly kept bedroom. The room was not too large and not too small, with a queen sized bed in its middle. It was made up of two mattresses so we figured we could move one to the floor for the boys to sleep while the girls took the bed. We quickly barricaded ourselves in the room, to keep out unwanted visitors, and looked around.

  Upon closer inspection, one of the blankets was full of maggots. We immediately threw that one aside and figured we'd sleep without any. While me and my friend were shaking off the sheets of dust and unwanted mites, the brunette was trying to make some moves on the dark-haired boy - which annoyed me greatly. Not only was this not the time for such nonsense, but I think in the Dream the boy and I have a sort of past.

  In the Dream, I was attracted to the boy but we weren't in a relationship whatsoever; just close friends. In the Dream however, the backstory is that we both had feelings for each other but had yet to tell the other. And now, this was the last place I wanted to think about those sort of things.  Apparently the girl was suggesting to the boy that they find another room to sleep in as this one was too small and cramped, and that just made me madder.

  The boy was in an awkward position and instead of giving her a straight answer, he shuffled his way over to me asking, "Can I talk to you for a second..? Alone?"

  I was so irritated, I snapped back at him without realizing, "If you wanna frick-frack, go find someplace else. Just don't frick-frack here!" I was actually mad at the girl, but unfortunately I took it out on the guy. Luckily, because I had brought it out in the open, I had shut the girl up and stopped her nonsense before it even began. The boy, though upset I snapped at him, looked grateful he was saved.

I really did not like that girl. I was also very creeped out by all the dead bodies in the school, and how dark it was, but thank goodness nothing chased us throughout the Dream. I have to stop reading that manga before bedtime.

. 18.12.13 an eye for an eye .

  I was a 15-year-old homeless kid, living on the streets with an older woman I called 'mom' and an older girl named Sarah, whom I treated and loved like a sister. We were hobos basically, living on the streets, relying only on ourselves and our wits to survive. Though I was the kid, I was the caretaker of the group. For some reason I was skilled in fighting, and I protected my family.

  One day, we return to an old neighborhood of mine. I had history in this particular neighborhood, and before I could avoid it, it had already caught up to me. Suddenly the three of us were shuffled into this big mansion by a group of gangsters, all dressed in black leather. Inside, I recognized the owner of the house. He was a man, who looked near his mid-thirties, and was dressed in all white. Besides his oldest son, who was 14-years-old and with the gangsters who herded us before, he also had a number of adopted children. Some were toddlers and the rest were no older than 7.

  His cronies brought us to him as he played with the children in the den. He brings up the past, subtly telling me that now he had captured me, he was going to get his revenge. He had been waiting for a long time now, but he was patient and it showed in his calm demeanor. Flashbacks erupted in my head, and I saw a small boy with black, wavy hair and a wide smile. And I felt so sad, my heart wanted to break because I knew that the child was long dead.

  "I'm so sorry.. I didn't mean to... It was an accident! He was the only friend I ever had then, I would never hurt him.." I was on the verge of tears.

  Apparently his youngest son, Sam, and I were close friends when we were younger. But he died in a terrible accident an d his father blamed me for his death. His older son never knew about him, probably due to memory suppression, and was lost during our conversation. But after hearing my pleas, he wondered if I really was innocent or not. The doubt showed on his face, especially when his father seemed adamant in getting his revenge on me.

  The man in white opened up a door to a very derelict room and told me to go in. It looked like an abandoned child's playroom; ropes and hooks hung from the ceiling, toys in clutters and disguised as torture devices. I went in and he locked me in total darkness. I hid myself in murky bedsheets and covers under the dusty bed, lying in wait and letting my eyes adjust to the dark. I anticipated thugs to come in after me to finish the job, but for some reason the man in white left me alone. Somehow he thought that I had suffocated from something inside the room, and that I'd passed out or died.

  Either way, the door of the room was now unguarded and so I escaped. I went upstairs to find my 'family' and found that they were taken hostage in the dining area. Mom and Sarah sat terrified beside each other at the long, dining table, while the gangsters stood at all sides of the room. All the gangsters were armed. Some were seated at the table, some just stood around joking. The son was there too, and only now I realized how much he resembled Sam. I really didn't want to hurt him unless I really needed to. I didn't mind killing the gangsters though.

  I stealthily searched the other rooms for weapons. I went into the master's bedroom and found a wall full of firearms. I was awestruck and excited to use them. I took a small automatic machine gun and two automatic pistols, and I was so ready to fuck shit up.

Unfortunately before I reached the dining room, I woke up. But I supposed I saved my 'family' in the end, though not as smoothly as I would've hoped. I would've killed most of the gangsters by the time my ammo ran out. I would get caught by the man in white again, but this time he threatened to kill my 'family'. I'd give myself up for their lives because they had absolutely nothing to with Sam's death. "Killing me won't bring Sam back! As much as I wish it would, I know it won't happen too!" I could imagine myself saying.

Maybe the second son would believe me and understand that it wasn't my fault. He would stand up to his father and admit that he had taken things too far for too long. He saves my life and lets me and my 'family' go. And if he wanted to join our 'family', we would be more than happy to welcome him.

. 19.07.13 Mad Mike .

  There was this serial killer we caught whom we named Mad Mike. There was a number of us; me, a high-ranking detective, a large-bodied latino sheriff who originally cuffed Mad Mike, and Chad, a laid-back hippie character with long dreads and beard who was my unorthodox partner, and this one scrawny, white guy who looked like the sheriff's assistant officer.

  The sheriff and assistant officer were walking Mad Mike along the street until suddenly he hit the deputy and made a run for it uphill but Chad and I broke him off and pinned him down. We were next to the main road so there were cars passing us by. Somehow, Mad Mike managed to uncuff one hand so as I was about to cuff him, he had this look in his eyes. Like a real mad dog. I was sitting ontop of him and before he had the chance to throw me off and into the busy street of cars, I got off of him with both cuffs on.

  We continued to walk along the street until he resisted arrest again and knocked Chad to the ground. He had also injured the sheriff and deputy somehow and was running amok. There were civilians nearby so I told Chad to just shoot him. I ran behind him the entire time, just a few metres apart. Chad got hold of the sheriff's shotgun and trid to shoot but it was jammed. He tried the trigger a couple of times but he accidentally shot the ground and a bullet somehow ricocheted into his shoulder. Mad Mike was totally happy to see how incompetent his captors were.

  Mad Mike escaped his cuffs once more, got the shotgun and tried to shoot me. I ran behind a tree and hid in the surrounding hill. We were at a gas station, surrounded by hills, so I hid in the trees where I could still see what Mike was up to. He had some civilians held hostage; an old woman and three younger ladies. Chad was wounded, sheriff and deputy were still down but I don't think they were dead. Mad Mike kept blasting off he shotgun here and there and everywhere, shouting nonsense.

  Finally I got hold of a golf club from the trash bins by the back of the gas station. I somehow jumped down from the hilltop to meet Mike face-to-face. He tried to shoot me but he hadn't been paying attention to how many shots he'd just wasted; now he had none. So I took the gun and hit him once in the head with it. Once down, I saw on top of him again to deliver the final blow to his head with the golf club.


I admit I was a bit brutal for a hard-ass detective, but he was a mad serial killer on the loose and he'd escaped too many times. I felt like justice was served by my own two hands.

. 17.07.13 the Journalist .

  My friend was an investigative journalist, who had been working on his latest scoop for the longest time. He knew that some people were after him. He was the target of a lot of powerful and dangerous people, as he wrote amazing pieces on human rights and the freedom of people from the oppressing governments around the world. Sadly he was assasinated/murdered while working on his latest job. I had some of his worknotes and discovered that he mentioned the people he suspected were onto him; two aliases by the names of Rapier and Hyena. But what my Dream is mainly about is what happened after his death.

  Before his death, he recorded a series of videos of his family, his closest friends, all his loved ones, which he made into a documentary. The documentary was aired after his imminent death and we all watched it. When it showed on TV, I was watching it with my dad. It looked as if he was filming his own birthday party, with his voice spoke in the background, "This is my beautiful mother - This is my baba (father) - And this is my good friend, Yaqeen. He always wants to be the first to welcome me and hold my hand during celebrations," to which the friend in the screen laughed. Everyone looked so happy, for he was considered a hero in his country. No one looked like they knew they were celebrating the last birthday of his life.

  My friend always wrote poems, mostly about his life, his family, and his home, Kashmir. In my Dream, his compilation of poetry was voted number#1 in the newspapers list of top most read literature, after the premier of his documentary. His documentary, upon its release, became number 9 in the list of most watched documented media of the week and won an international award. My greatest surprise was the mail I recieved after I finished watched TV. I couldn't watch the film till the end, it was too sad. My heart ached every time I recalled the smiling faces of his parents.

  Looking through today's mail, I noticed an important-looking envelope addressed to me. I opened it up and found that it was some kind of will. In the will, my friend had entrusted to me a certain amount of money. Accompanying the will was a letter personally written by him, thanking us and hoping that the money could help us with whatever problems we had with our families. He asked us to take care of our families while we still had the chance. He had given most of his savings to his family and distributed it among his closest friends. He also donated to different charities and organizations. I cried, still holding onto the envelope, pressing it close to my chest. My heart cried, sincerely missing such a good person and friend, who died doing what he loved and protecting those he loved.


Sorry if this Dream was short and perhaps not as whimsical as some of the others, but this was a really sad Dream for me to remember and write down because knowing this friend in real life, it sounded like it was something he would really do. May God protect him and bless him for what he's done, and for being such a good friend and man to begin with.

.: Magenta - a girl in a grey world :.

Finally drew Magenta from my Dream, 'A girl in a grey world' :) Since I haven't been able to remember my Dreams lately, thought I'd update with a picture.

. 10.04.13 salamander .

  It was past the hours of twilight and I roamed around the rooftops of a dark and bustling metropolis. From a glance, I knew it was the city of Gotham, and I was just one of its disliked inhabitants. I was a reptilian, half-breed, with blood-red and fiery ember scales. My hair was long and black like tar. I had a pair of horns, and my left eye was absolutely white though I wasn’t blind. I had a long, whip-like tail with sharp spikes at the end of it. My only companions were my two demon dogs, whom I named Psykes and Cleaver. As dangerous as I seemed with my entourage, my Persona didn’t seem criminal at all. Because of my likeness, I laid low and stayed out of people’s way in general. The shadows were my home.

  A big crime had gone down in my part of the city so I sent my dogs to investigate. The two dogs looked like zombie mutts, with shreds of their flesh missing here and there. They both had black and dark red fur. Their eyes were totally white, but glowed red when provoked. Something about them reminded me of Neil Gaiman’s characters Cain and Abel from the Sandman universe, how Cain would relentlessly torture and kill his younger brother over and over again but Abel kept regenerating because they were somewhat immortal. Psykes and Cleaver were exactly like that, Psykes being Cain. I called him Psykes because he had more of a psychotic streak than his younger brother.

  Psykes was picking a fight with Cleaver again and as he tore up his neck and slash his long claws at his belly, Cleaver would just whine and howl in agony. My character was a bit cold in character in the sense that this was the norm and didn’t bother intervening even as Cleaver died over and over again. Suddenly, alarm struck and the streets were busy. I shushed the dogs so that I could see what was going on. Something had struck Gotham city; Robin was dead, and the Dark Knight wants to know who killed him.

The Dream ended there, but if I were to continue the story, I’d guess that people started seeing me around the crime scenes and made me the prime suspect. This pisses Batman off and he tracks me down to question if I had anything to do with it. I’m innocent of course, and to prove it, I’d help Batman look for Robin’s actual killer. My dogs were better eyes and ears, and hunters for him in the underground metropolis. I call my character a Salamander because in some occult beliefs, the Salamander is the elemental of fire; a mythical being with an affinity to fire. Even though I didn’t see my Persona play with fire or anything, her scales reminded me of flames and her dogs seemed like Hellhounds so why not.

. 10.03.13 Zuko's dark side .

  The Dream was set in the world of the Avatar: the Last Airbender, so if you’ve never of this awesome Nickolodeon series, you’ll probably be lost. We were at a Fire Nation prison somewhere on an island and surrounded by water. I don’t remember a lot about my Persona except that I was a girl with dark hair and a long ponytail. I was dressed in Fire Nation guard armour and I called two guards around the corner to come back me up as a prisoner was attempting escaped. When the guards arrived, I banged their heads together and threw them into an empty cell, unconscious. Sokka got the keys and found the cell that was keeping Aang in and let him out. Aang was really happy to see us both.

  Aang had his trusty glider back and lead everyone out of the prison safely. Even Zuko was there helping with Aang’s escape so he was one of the good guys now. The prison was in the middle of a crater filled with water, with rockpools all around it’s dividing walls between the prison and freedom. Aang was trying to carry Sokka and I while Zuko used Fire-bending to give himself a lift while still holding onto Aang. But in the end we were all too heavy and landed in the water before we could cross the crater walls. We climbed into the nearest rockpool where we rested in shallow water.

  But suddenly we heard a voice and as the mist cleared, standing on top of the rockpool was a girl with dark eye-shadow and purple hair and clothes. She didn’t seem interested in Aang who just busted out of prison but looked like she was after Zuko and I, for personal and other reasons. Zuko looked like he hated her with a passion though. I don’t really know what happened between the two, but in between the sarcastic, snarky remarks, the girl was sincerely apologetic for something she did to Zuko. But Zuko didn’t seem like the forgiving type at the moment.

  As she got into the rockpool with us and once I saw Zuko’s anger, my guts told me that it was time to go. Sokka had gotten out of the rockpool first and I guessed it was high-time I took Aang with me. Aang was tired from all the flying and gliding so I had to keep us both afloat, and we were in no position to help Zuko. But it turns out that he didn’t need any help at all. Zuko set the rockpool at boiling temperature, turning the surrounding rocks black as charcoal. Once the girl realized what was going on, it was too late for her to escape. She screamed her lungs out, the pain of being boiled alive was unbearable. I tried to shield Aang’s eyes away from the horrible sight but I couldn’t stop the screaming. It was the first time we all saw Zuko’s dark side.

  I’ve already had severable Avatar Dreams before and they all have had Zuko in them because he’s my favourite character (which I like to fangirl over). But honestly this Dream was ghastly and just plain sad. I’d like to think that Zuko and my character were close and the fact that the girl threatened to kill me to get to him maybe kind of pissed him off, but I didn’t expect him to kill the girl. At least not in such a horrifying way.

. 09.03.13 animal research centre .

  This was a parallel universe where animals ruled the earth and humans were like the lower race to be used as slaves and assistants. The animals walked and talked just like humans but kept all of their animalistic features. Imagine Giraffes, Rhinos and Elephants wearing suits and white lab coats and are able to magically hold objects without the use of thumbs. The Dream took place in a research centre where humans were the main and preferred test subject. And I was a test subject. What’s interesting in this Dream is that this might be the first time that my Persona is a man.

  I was a young adult male and the only reason I’ve survived this long in the research centre is because I was one of their most valuable experiments. I was a human hybrid with the abilities of most animals combined, by reforming my genetic make-up with that of other species. Basically I was BeastBoy, just without the shape-shifting powers. The researchers thought that giving me special treatment could keep me complacent, isolating me from other humans and treating me as tenderly and humanely as possible. But I was intelligent enough to catch onto what kind of world I was kept in.

  The Dream started with me already in the middle of my escape. The centre was not yet alerted of my escape but a Rhino guard had caught me and was chasing me down. I dashed into an empty laboratory with lots of metal shelves and cupboards full of equipment. The room was dark and the Rhino had poor eyesight but had acute sense of hearing. As I clambered onto the tallest cupboard, I sat still so by the time he reached the lab, he was quite lost but he knew I was there and he would wait till I made a move before ramming that gigantic horn into me (I was a valuable test subject but the Rhino has been wanting to pick a bone with me for while apparently and if they found that I’d been disobedient, they’d have labelled me as too dangerous and put me down anyway).

  So I grabbed the metal shelf closest to me and one filled with lots of glass and metal equipment and pushed it down. It crashed into the next shelf, creating a domino effect and if the collapse of shelves onto the Rhino didn’t stop him, the loud crashes of glass and metal on the marble floor did. The lab was in such a chaotic ruckus, it hurt his sensitive ears and he couldn’t locate where I was. I made my move. Parts of the centre like the laboratories were separated by drywall that didn’t really touch the ceiling and it had ample space for me to climb and get around. The walls were high enough (or I was stealthy enough) for me not to be seen by the researchers below.

  But the others heard the crash and were heading this way, and soon the centre would be on high alert. I had to get out fast. I ended up in another room, where there were Impala and Giraffe scientists working. The moment they saw me, they screamed and ran out of the room. I wanted to climb down and hide somewhere, or maybe thought that it’d be faster running on foot. But the moment I climbed down to a desk, a Hyena and African Wild Dog guard cornered me. I had to fight them off using nothing but my brute strength, and the closest thing I grabbed to use as a weapon was a large bag filled with heavy powder, like flour. I swung and hit one guard in the head and I proceeded to beat both the guards to death before I ran out of the room.

  Unfortunately that was the end to the Dream. I don’t know whether I escaped safely or not but the chase was getting too tense for me, I was kind of glad I woke up. I don’t like Dreams where you’re being chased but at the same time sometimes I’m curious to know what happens when you get caught. But in this Dream, I wasn’t too awfully curious to find out.

. 15.12.12 escape .

  First objective: Flip the switch.

On the first floor, you can’t stay at one place for too long a time. Sometimes you’ll have to risk it and explore. The more ground you cover, the more places you can hide. The school building has two wings and a staircase at each wing to take you to the levels above. One wing is closed off and you’ve got to flip a switch to open it. The ogre-matron of the first floor guards the switch to the staircase. You’ll know her when you see her. Ugly everything with a side of warts, in a nurse’s uniform; can’t miss her. Even if she isn’t around, when you flip the switch, make sure you run and hide because she’ll know and she’ll catch you if you linger. Don’t go to the staircases immediately. Hide for a while to cover your hide.

 

  Second objective: Change your clothes.

Change your identity from time to time. Camouflage and blending in is the key to this level. There are many other scavengers trapped and living in this level, and in this kind of crowd you don’t want to stand out. Find your way to the laundry chutes to change your clothes. There are other matrons guarding this level but they’re stupid, so you can get away by even dressing up as one of them. But the nurse uniforms are harder to procure. Disguise yourself as part of the background or just hide in the dark. They do not like the color yellow.

  Next objective: Find the key to the green house.

The whole Dream was just colors of steel grey, brown rust and seaweed green.  It’s dark, everything is dusty, decrepit and falling apart little by little. It reminded me a lot of the abandoned, underwater burial ground that is Rapture, from the Bioshock game. The scattered piles of junk everywhere and the architecture of the place looked more like the makeshift hospital from the game, Return to Ravenhearst.  We weren’t underwater nor in a hospital, but rather a school. And survival was the game. Unfortunately the Dream ended so suddenly before I could understand the rest of the instructions. Have to admit this Dream gave me the chills, just running around, hiding and avoiding everything on sight.

. save the pig .

  I was in a hospital. It was clean and bright and bustling with people. I found myself in the lobby where there was a long line of people at the front counter. I think I was a temp or a nurse, dressed in the green hospital uniform but I don’t remember what I was supposed to do. Then all of a sudden the person at the end of the line started scratching incessantly. He couldn’t stop, and the itch spread to the person in front of him, and then jumped to the person in front of that person, till the whole line was scratching themselves all over. Something contagious had spread, and the hospital went into lockdown, quarantining everyone who had contracted this strange chicken-pox-looking skin disease.

  The hospital director assigned this case to a well respected doctor and he discovered that the disease started because of a pig that was brought into the hospital. The pig was something of a sports mascot and was pretty famous, so no one thought it odd that it would get special treatment from one of the most renowned doctors in town. The doctor carried the pig and took it straight away to surgery.

  Time passed and I wondered what surgery was actually taking place as it took so long. Finally the doctor came out of the room, looking stern and cold as ever. He saw me and told me that the surgery was successful but the pig didn’t survive. It was my job to dispose the body and clean up the theatre room. As I entered the theatre, I saw the body of a pig on its back, with its body cut up and mangled from the inside, with blood dripping from its intestines. But the more I inspected it, the more I realised that this was not the same pig.

  It turns out that I had been taking care of the pig for a while so I was suspicious as to why the doctor would lie and switch the pig bodies. I grew upset knowing the pig was still under my responsibility, so I went to look for it. I discovered another hidden theatre room where the real pig laid, on the operating table, on its back, and its stomach was also cut open. But it was more horrible when I found out that it was still alive and slowly coming into consciousness. As if the doctor purposely did not apply enough anaesthetic so that the pig could feel pain throughout the procedure.

  I was furious! But I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to find that doctor and kick his ass, but the first thing I was did was go downstairs to find a veterinary doctor (don’t ask why they would be in the same hospital building). I knocked on the door and entered to find an Indian woman by the name of Dr. Kreegul Gurgess. I knew she was a great and kind animal doctor so I explained to her the situation and rushed to my aid upstairs. She also let me know that we would definitely get the doctor back for what he did.

The only thing I can think about from this is that ANIMAL RIGHTS PEOPLE. THEY CAN FEEL PAIN TOO. I really don’t like people who hurt, kill and abuse animals just for the fun of it. I’d cast them in the Twilight zone where animals ruled the earth and used humans for lobotomy tests.

Also, there is this misconception, not only in non-muslims, but in muslims themselves that just because pigs and dogs are regarded as impure, we have to treat them badly. Since when are we ever encouraged to treat another creation badly?? Just because we have to wash our body parts or any object that’s made contact with pigs and dog’s saliva 7 times, we have to condemn the creatures to pain and misery?? COME ON PEOPLE. THINK.

. 28.11.12 Nobody .

  Her eyes are a dark, dull silver pair, and they stare at you lifeless, like the eyes of a dead fish. Her hair is raven and forever trailing in the wind, and her ends disappear with every gust that stirs. Her dress reminds you of the mist, and sometimes you wonder if that was all she was, and if she was ever there.

  She likes to walk around at night, barefoot across roads and roads of cobblestoned streets. And sometimes, if you listen real hard, you can almost hear the pitter-patter of ghostly feet. Like a child, she is forever curious of the world around her; the sensations about her that she can no longer feel or taste or touch. She likes to follow you around, even if you never notice her; even if your eyes will never meet hers. It hasn’t stopped her before.

  Animals take notice of her. Some are frightened, while others grow familiar with her kind presence. She becomes nothing more than a shadow that accompanies them on their rounds. If she had a companion, it would seem to be a particular, black cat, plump in figure with emerald eyes bejewelling its round face. They walk side-by-side down the cobblestone path in the early mornings, before the milkman arrives with its breakfast.

  Most people never see her, and she doesn’t mind. She doesn’t mind anything anymore. She just is. And that is all she will be. Though sometimes she takes pleasure in being noticed once in a while. More than once, her misty frame has caught the glance of a child or two and they always stare at her in awe. Their eyes tell her they’re frightened of her dead-fish pair and her ghostly figure, and all she does in return is smile, with a single finger to her pale lips. Her raven hair twists and turns in the wind and across her face.

This Dream was neither sad nor scary. Just a short narrative of a girl ghost who walked through the streets, still observing the lives of the living and existing with the simple pleasures she has left. Like making friends with a single black cat (which was awfully cute by the way). I called this Dream ‘Nobody’ because it reminded me a lot of Nobody Owens, the ghostly boy from the Graveyard Book; one of my faves by Neil Gaiman.

. 27.11.12 the suitors .

  It’s the late 1900’s, like a set straight out of Pride and Prejudice and I am a Bystander in this Dream. There’s a dinner party going on and the center of attention is a lovely lady with dark hair in a pearl coloured gown. She in enchanting and is the focus of all men around her, especially these two. One had silver hair, tied into a neat ponytail, and was dressed in rich, navy blue attire with golden trimmings. Compared to the other gentleman, he looked like he was of the higher social status. The other man was just as handsome, had dark brown hair tied into a ponytail as well, though it was a little shorter. His clothes were rich as well, but plain in comparison to the first gentleman.

  For simplicity’s sake, I’ll name the two men. The one with white hair will be Frederick and the one with brown hair will be David. Frederick was an aristocrat who had his eyes on the lovely lady for a while and has asked her hand for marriage once, but she had turned him down. However that didn’t stop him from seeing her every chance he got. He attended social gatherings and dinner parties, only if she was too invited. Unknown to him, the reason she rejected him the first time was because she had already her heart set on a childhood love, David.

  David was from a wealthy family too but was a working man and earned his living, while Frederick was born from old money. He and the girl knew each other for longer a time than Frederick. Frederick was always wary of David, but he was envious of anyone was closer to the lady than he was. That dinner party however, David made a special announcement. He proposed to the girl there and then and, flustered and blushing, the girl accepted. Everyone cheered and was overjoyed, and congratulated the two. And Frederick seethed in a corner by himself.

  The Dream then shifts and takes us to another time where Frederick is with David, alone in a library or study room. This is where David tells Frederick of his story, of how he and the girl were friends from childhood and how naturally their love for one another blossomed. It was obvious to David that Frederick was jealous, as they bantered sarcastic remarks over petty, unrelated issues. But what he didn’t know was how well Frederick’s hatred had rooted every since the night of the dinner party. David was too proud over the fact that he had won her hand instead, but he failed to remain alert. As they bantered, David stayed seated in the comfortable armchair while Frederick walked idly about the bookcases around the room.

  Where he was able to point a pistol at David’s head and shoot him point-blank from behind.

Jealousy and hate make men into terrible things. This was just so sad, I don’t even know. I bet Frederick went insane and got himself caught and thrown into an asylum, where he grew into a psychotic, fuelled by the delusion that he’ll have the girl fall in love with him no matter what the cost. God, that’d make a creepy movie. Wonder if it’s already been done before...

. 24.08.12 a girl in a grey world .

  If the world were a colour, it would be grey. Well, it’s not really grey. But for this girl, it was. She was an odd little girl in an odd little world. Well, she wasn’t really little, nor was the world she woke up in. But one thing was true, it was all very odd.

  When she woke up, she wasn’t really lying down. She was standing up straight and felt a bit disorientated, as if she had fallen in a daze in the middle of the corridor. She can’t remember where she was or how she got there in the first place. And everywhere around her was very strange and unfamiliar. The decrepit structure of the buildings, the damp, grungy decor and the foreign smells thick in the atmosphere; it was not a pleasant place to be, but the girl was not frightened.

  As she explored the place, she found her reflection in a large, piece of mirror shard, sticking out like a jagged piece of ruin. She seemed like the only thing in the world with colour. Her short hair and top were a bright, dark pink, almost a magenta shade. Her skin was porcelain white, with a blush of colour on her cheeks, like a doll. Her pants and knee-length boots were black as tar, and so were her eyes. But her eyes had pink pupils in the middle, like buttons.

  Not a moment too soon after inspecting herself in the shard did she hear a strange sound. Further down the corridor she spots a large frog-like creature. Or maybe it was a child. Perhaps it was both. Its skin was swamp-green and it was hopping about like a frog, but there was something child-like or impish about his face. Whatever it was, it seemed like the only moving creature besides her. In a lonely grey world with nothing to do, she follows it through the maze of the worn-down building. The creature bounced off the walls as the girl nonchalantly followed. It seemed as if it wanted to be followed because whenever the girl stopped and took her time to inspect something, the frog-imp-child would wait for her close by.

  Through corridors and corridors, the girl passed by shadows and old ghosts and people whom she was sure were no longer people; all residents of this forgotten grey world. The girl found a staircase and was enticed to go downstairs to see where it led. But she heard someone coming up the stairs. It was a woman singing. Suddenly fear overtook the magenta-haired girl and she hid around the corner. From a safe corner, she saw the woman’s black gown trailing behind her as she sang softly, but cheerily. She was dressed in all black, like a mourner’s gown, with a long, black-laced veil covering her face. The atmosphere was eerie and cold and for the first time, the girl was frightened. She went to look for the frog-child.

  Finally the girl sees a curtain at the end of a large hallway, with bright light creeping in through the gaps and moth-bitten holes. Without hesitation, she pushes through the curtain and her eyes are blinded, for a moment, by a vast spectrum of colours. She finds herself in the outside world. She looks up to the blue, azure sky and she can feel the warm sunlight on her porcelain skin, still feeling cold from the grey world behind her. She finds herself standing on a patio garden, with greenery of all kinds in pots of different shapes. On the wooden floor and a number of them handing above her head. Some of them even had flowers and they were a beauty for her button eyes to behold.

  Just then, she feels arms wrap around her and someone is hugging her from behind. The girl hears a voice speaking, saying things like ‘how much I’ve missed you’ and ‘it’s good to see you again’. The girl turns around and she stares into the chocolate eyes of another girl, not much older than she was. She had brown hair and was dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans. She looked at the girl as if she were expecting a response to the warm welcome. The magenta-haired girl looked confused at the stranger and asked, “And you are...?”

  And the girl with chocolate eyes was stunned. “Don’t you remember me, Magenta? It’s me! You do remember me, don’t you?” A second later a lifetime of memories flooded the girl’s mind, shocking and terrifyingly abrupt. The girl with chocolate eyes was just a child when Magenta came into her life. Woven by threads of dreams and wishes of friendship, Magenta was brought to life by the little artist and her world of crayons and bright paint. Whenever she needed a muse or a friend, Magenta was always there for her. But one day, the artist fell ill for the longest time and her world of colour was turning pale from malnourishment.

  Months passed and the girl remained in a coma, and unconsciously sought dreams from everywhere else except her own. But though Magenta was almost forgotten, she never left her little artist. She remained in limbo, where she awaited her canvas world to be restored to life. But after a while, Magenta lost her memory and wandered through limbo aimlessly, constantly forgetting what and who she was and what and who she was supposed to be. Finally the day came when the artist awoke. And she sought to find her muse once more. “I’m sorry. I never intended to forget, especially you.” Magenta replied as she hugged her artist tight, “You never forgot me. Your heart remembered. You were always there, while I was the one who lost memory of my master.” And painted on her porcelain face was a smile.

This was a sweet story with loads of abstract concepts, but I loved it to bits. I especially liked how blur and nonchalant Magenta turned out to be. There are still a few things I didn’t get, like who the frog-child and the lady-in-black were supposed to represent. After all the grey world is actually the grey matter in the artist-girl’s head. I love the special relationship the artist has for her muse, like she really loves her and protects her, because she has been a part of her ever since she was created. And now reunited they can make worlds again <3>

. 08.08.12 Slender child .

  I was a young girl with long black hair and a petite red dress, and a cute red hair-band. I lived in a great, big, wooden cottage in the middle of a grey forest. Very rarely did I see people in the forest, let alone children. But when I did see children, I was very happy. I’d go out and play with them. The children never stayed for long though. They were either frightened of me or stayed away, or they just disappeared eventually. But there were two boys that did not mind the fact I lived in a forbidden forest and that I had slightly morbid tendencies. I liked them a lot. They were my first friends.

  The older boy had chestnut hair and eyes, and wore a plain white shirt with denim overalls, with one strap hanging loose from his shoulder. His younger brother had darker hair, almost black like mine, and wore a red shirt and knee-length, brown pants. They lived in a village near to my forest and stumbled upon me by chance one day. Though they were told time and time again not to go near the forest by their parents, they would visit me every day just to play with me. I was their little secret as they were mine.

  But one day they visited me while I was still inside my home. I was in my bedroom upstairs and they saw me through the window. Though I was afraid we would get caught, I opened my window and hurried them to come inside before ‘daddy’ would see. So they were let into my home and we played for a while. But once I heard ‘daddy’ come back home, I had to rush them out the window and had them carefully climb down. ‘Daddy’ doesn’t like it when strangers are in the house. He doesn’t like strangers at all.

  The moment the boys disappeared from plain sight, running back to their village, there was a knock on my door. ‘Daddy’ entered, looming and tall, so much so he reached the ceiling and he had to hunch. His tentacles were twisting and twirling behind him, restless, as if he was disturbed. He took a look outside my window then turned to me and I smiled as innocently as I could. Once his tendrils calmed down, his faceless mask softened as well and a large tentacle patted me on the head. I loved ‘daddy’ but it can get rather lonely sometimes when everyone’s afraid of Slenderman.

Yes I was Slenderman’s child and I really enjoyed the Dream. The way Slendy was so affectionate with me, and protective of me. It made me wonder if I was really his biological, monstrous child or just some child he kidnapped and liked having around. Or perhaps I was demonically possessed and he adopted me for that interest in me. Or perhaps I was a normal child who was already dead, but resurrected due to Slendy’s supernatural powers; cus he was awfully lonely himself and needed someone to play with. Asides from all this, what is up with the iconic girl with black hair and red dress? Is it really symbolism for something pure evil?

. detective Maria Bennet .

  The era looks like the early 1900’s. I was a female private detective, by the name of Maria Bennet. That was how I introduced myself at the client’s door. I was with two other people; one man, who looked like my assistant detective, and a woman, who wore a white coat like a doctor. We were investigating the mysterious death of a young woman and her new-born child, upon the inquiry of her father. His name was Dr. Sterngal, a man well-known for his practice and was a man of pure science. But he could not explain rationally his daughter’s cause of death. When we arrived at the home to inspect the body, it was ghastly.

  Her body was pale grey, with a slight blue-purple hue to her skin. The veins in her body were visible and her eyes were wide open, white as the moon and bloodshot at the corners. Her mouth was left open and gaping, as if she were screaming. Her eyes and mouth were too dry and stiff to close, so they had no choice but to leave her as she was. What was even more frightening was that the baby looked exactly the same, but it seemed it was still struggling to live. I don’t remember much what happened after we inspected the mother’s body, but I recall seeing the distraught look on Dr. Sterngal’s face when the baby tried to cry. It sounded more like gurgling wails, like it was choking on its own saliva. Or blood.

As the detective, of probably the occult, I concluded that the girl was the victim of demonic possession. But the goal wasn’t her, rather it was the child the demon was after. The whole thing reminded me too much of the movie ‘The Exorcism of Emily Rose’. Probably what invoked the ‘demonic possession’ Dream in the first place xDD

.: just for us :.

Aster and Fou; Dream 29.03.09

Just thought I'd post up this recent illustration I did of two characters from a Dream long, long ago. One of the earliest Dreams I blogged about even. When I first wrote down the details of what went on in my bobble-of-a-head, the story was not smooth, characters were intangible, things shifted and disappeared and just like any Dream, most of it didn't make any sense. So I rewrote it as a real, concrete story, at the same time experimented with a writing style and plot that still left it vague and surreal. I call it 'Just for Us'.

Enjoy~ And as always, feedback is always appreciated~

. island wedding .

  I’m on a large, tropical island with my Dream fiancé. We were either supposed to get married or we already got married with a beach wedding. All of my friends were there. We were all dining at a restaurant that sat atop of the ocean waters. The restaurant also owned a Ferris wheel so my fiancé and I rode it after dinner. At the top of the wheel, we stopped because another ceremony was going on. Everyone at the restaurant was like a guest at the wedding. But before the priest could finalise the vows and wed them, the bride ran to the edge and jumped into the ocean. We got down from the Ferris wheel asking what happened, the groom just calmly answered, “It’s ok. She probably had cold feet.” The girl might have been a mermaid because when friends and family went to look for her in the water, she was gone.

  Even though we weren’t friends with the bride or groom, I took my fiancé to the shallow waters by the restaurant to look for her. And when we were searching, we found an entrance to the insides of the island under the restaurant. It wasn’t like a huge discovery of a cave or anything adventurous like that. It was actually another tourist attraction where they had a mall constructed in the underbelly of the island. So as we went inside, we went through a long corridor of glass and saw sea creatures swimming on the other side, which meant we were underwater. And the shopping complex under the island was simply HUGE!

Unfortunately the Dream was a short one and it just ended there. Or at least I don’t remember much of it now. An underwater mall; I wonder if it’s actually been built before.