Sunday, August 26, 2012

. 15.04.11 demon asian kid .


  I remember the beginning starts like some kind of Korean ghost/thriller movie where some colleagues, a man and three women (my persona as one of said women), are just exiting the office building after a long day's work. What's strange is as they make their way out of the office, the whole place gets dark. The corridors leading to the car-park were dark so we stood around, confused about where the doors were. One woman assumed her car would be in the other direction so she went ahead alone. I didn't want to leave her alone but the other two were headed another way. They found a door with light omitting from it so I called her, saying this was the right door. But she was lost in the dark and a door opposite opened all of a sudden, by itself. Thinking it was the right door, she went through it and the door shut behind her. I was already spooked so I went ahead with the other two.

  At the stairways, our personas changed suddenly from Korean adult colleagues to Caucasian teenagers who were exploring this part of the 'supposedly' abandoned stairway. Of course I was the paranoid one, which made the others either the bold or stupid ones. The only way to go was down and it was a long, dark way down. We went anyway and what we found below was a surprise. Could you believe an underground cybercafe sort of spot, with flat screen computers and really comfortable chairs. There were already ppl there, who looked like the usual cyber-zombies; didn't even notice us walking in. The others felt like it was an awesome, secret discovery for teens. I felt wary about the others and this one, small Asian kid that was hanging around. He wasn't playing and he was the only one who made eye-contact with us when we arrived.

  The girl wanted to try out a computer game. She sat down and automatically a window pops up, which looks to be some kind of role-playing game. The computer requests the player to make a new account. After she does, her character in the game appears and has an orange octagon symbol hovering above her head (kinda like the sims' green diamond). And after her character appears, an orange holographic octagon appears on her head too; I had a bad feeling from that. It looked as if her virtual character tied itself to her and I had some kind of hunch. “How do you pause the game?” I asked. My friends, not really amused by my un-fun, paranoid ways, just answered “You just press 'pause'.. Duuuh?”

  “I'm serious – show me how you pause, how you quit and save the game.” Giving up, my friend clicked on the window's task bar where the basic game options should be. Strangely there was no pause, quit or save button visible. After realizing this, they also thought it was strange. What was strange, and frightening to me, was that the Asian kid knew what I was up to. He had been stalking me from behind and after my hunch was proven correct, he got onto my back and jabbed something into my neck like some kind of needle. At first it hurt, at first I was scared. But after that I was just pissed. The little kid grinned at me, showing me his tiny, sharp teeth and his slant, black eyes. I just felt like punching him in the face. When we wrestled, he kept screeching in this impish, childish sort of cry which almost made my ears bleed. I punched, I slapped, pinched and almost pulled the skin off his face. It was thin like rubbery latex, and it felt like if I pulled it any further, his whole face would come off. I stopped cus the thought of seeing his flesh creeped me out more.

  Apparently those that got pulled into playing in this cursed cybercafe, your physical body would be linked with your virtual character. You had to continue sustaining your character, if not it would die. And if it died, the real person would die as well. The other teens in the cafe were too fixated in keeping their avatars alive. They had little sleep, little food and drink to eat; they couldn't leave the computers. They were tied to their virtual games until they would wither and die.  After pulling my hand away, I got a little hesitant of what to do next and how to escape with my two friends. We were closing in near to the door but the kid engulfed my whole fist into his mouth, which was excruciatingly disgusting... I managed to pull my hand out and sucker-punch the kid away. There were leeches left on my hand... for.. some reason...But after getting rid of them, we made our escape. Finally we ran out past the door and into the darkness. The rest is history.

What is up with lil kids being so creepy?? Especially in movies or games, you find that lil girls are the symbols of reputable creepiness and shit-tastic scares. Alma from the FEAR games, Ju On's lil kid son and the lil girl she was reborn into, Samara from The Ring and of course; The Omen. This might explain a bit why I don't like kids very much in real life. Not that I don't like them generally, I just don't like them when they're brats... Or when they're vicious, demon critters bent on devouring my flesh...

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

. 14.04.11 pool accident .

  I was at a pool party, with a whole bunch of Caucasian people that don't look at all familiar to me, but hell, I was enjoying myself. I was sitting on the edge of the pool, legs in the water, while a bunch of guys were racing nearby. The crowds cheered for the swimmers and everyone was laughing and having a great time. Then there was this one guy, in the water, who was sort of mocking me. I didn't even know who he was, but he was really bugging me, calling out to me. Even when I tried to ignore him, he started imitating my every move just for the fun of it. But that's when he really pissed me off. I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed off into the water, dashed towards him like a torpedo, and wrestled with him in the water. He was really taken by surprise. I guess he didn't know the bimbo he was teasing could get this violent. I pushed him so hard and deep into the water, his head hit against the bottom of the pool. I heard a crack!

  And that was when I realised he was almost drowning. I panicked and swam him back to the surface and dragged him on land. I yelled at people to get help. I didn't mean to hurt him so badly. I wasn't thinking. He was falling unconscious. I just hoped the concussion wasn't going to be so severe. Fortunately there was a doctor nearby. An African-American man, who looked in his late twenties, wearing a suit and he had with him a doctor's bag. We carried the guy to a safer place, let him have some air. The doctor examined the guy there and then. Soon enough, there was a thick bandage on his head and the doctor said that his concussion wasn't critical; just a really nasty bump. I was relieved. When the guy came to, I apologized deeply and hoped he could forgive me. The way he looked at me, he seemed scared and reluctant at first, but something told me, as the Dream was about the blur and end, that we became friends after that near-death experience.

Lesson learned: be careful of your violent tendencies, especially near mediums of water where people can drown or heavy hits where people can get concussions. I sincerely felt guilty for the guy when he hit his head. I had that knifed feeling in my heart that someone was going to die because of me and the guilt from that would've been unbearable in real life; I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have been able to handle it in Dreams.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

. 13.04.11 super or not super .

  I'm in what appears to be a large metropolitan sort of city, like New York or Los Angelas. Skyscrapers and a forest of buildings and highways surround me, yet laid completely empty. Litter flew about, carried by occasional gusts of wind. There was no one in this huge city. Unlike sets of zombie movies, the city was deserted but not destroyed. Everything seemed in place; the people were just missing. I wandered for a while on the open road but soon found myself leaping to great heights. I had my gliding ability back. So far, throughout my lucid dreaming, I haven't been able to perfectly fly high into the skies of the Dreaming, but I've managed to jump and glide on top of tall buildings; which is what I did. What happened next was quite strange. I was standing idly atop a building when suddenly a torpedo-like bomb dropped from the sky, out of nowhere. I felt the impulse to jump off the building with the bomb, catching it gently before actually hitting the ground. I found I also had super-strength.

  To my surprise the bomb was just a dud, an empty shell. So knowing it wasn't a threat anymore, I entertained myself, throwing the bomb back into the sky, jumping again towards it, playing catch with myself. But once I got back onto the ground, my game was interrupted by hooligans on flying cars. Imagine gangs from the 50's Grease boys in flying hot-rods and Cadillacs, chasing after you at high speed. My first reaction was flight because there were too many of them and for some reason, my flying/gliding ability failed. Instead I pressed on the inside of my palm and a spiderweb shoots out; Spidey powers!! But it was short lived. After shooting just two spiderwebs and swinging off the building's sides, they didn't work anymore and I continued the run on foot. Luckily I cut a lot of sharp corners and hid behind a dumpster area where they lost me.

  After the Greasers lost my trail and I got back my breath from resting behind the dumpster, I noticed some younger kids ganging up on a single, scrawny kid not too far from where I was. My persona was still very much like myself; just an ordinary teenage girl, just a few years older than them. I was taller than them and I had the guts to go up to them checking on what they were thinking of doing. They tried to walk away, bringing the kid with them but I pulled the leader back by the shirt. He was the biggest of the group; a big, chubby, white kid with freckles and curly, ginger hair. I tugged him towards me, telling him to back off the kid. He's about to punch me, feeling insulted a girl my weight can push him around, but I take that fist of his and twist his arm round to his back. Some of his friends tried ambushing me but I saw them and kicked them away. Finally I had him in submission and his gang let the kid go. The kid got behind me as I let the leader go. I said something to him as they walked away, “You wouldn't survive out here, not even in juvie.” I taunted them, getting the better of a group of guys. Funny that I sounded like I had been in juvenile prison before.

What occurred to me, as I woke up from this Dream, is that being a hero doesn't mean you have to have super-cool powers like being able to fly, extinguish nukes or shoot spiderwebs. Being a hero means to stand up for what you think is right; to do the right thing when the time arises. This applies to the current social problem of bullying a lot of adolescents face and sadly most of those cases are treated with the Bystander effect. It's when people don't step in and do something, thinking that someone else will take that initiative –  But how many people actually get in there and help? If you had the chance to prevent traumatic childhood experiences and suicidal attempts, wouldn't you take that chance? Don't just watch. Do something. In the words of SuperChick,

“You could be a hero, heroes do what's right,
You could be a hero, you can save a life,
You could be a hero, you could join the fight,

for what's right, for what's right.”

Sunday, August 5, 2012

.: that time of year again :.


Hello again my lovely, lovely folks~ 

My thoughts.

So just yesterday it was my 19th birthday :) I had a wonderful time with friends and family. Since it's still the fasting month at the moment, we celebrated by having a birthday Iftar (breaking the fast) at a Palestinian restaurant not too far from campus. Nothing fancy, nothing too loud; just a bunch of friends getting together for a humble dinner. We had fun.

Life is good. Life is treating me well, as I don't really have anything to complain about. I mean, sure, life is full of inconveniences, but I have so much more to be thankful for. A loving family, a roof over my head, food on my plate. And loads of friends, who are like gems each and every one of them. Life is good.

I know the Dreams have been updating pretty slow nowadays, and that's because of University getting in the way. Next week, I'm about to wrap up my short semester with finals, and after that I'll be home free. And when I'm not back in campus studying, I'm working my butt off on my other personal projects; my arts and stories. My greatest fear is not completing anything I start so these projects of mine are an important exercise for me to get my jobs done. I have to admit, it's been pretty difficult especially since I scrapped and re-vamped a whole comic, SUPERSTUDENTS. But I'm enjoying my comic's fresh, gritty, new look. As I compare these to the old pages, which I can't bear to look at any more (shudder), the fact that I've improved so much as an artist and storyteller is what gets me the most. 

SUPERSTUDENTS Prologue: Out of the Dark pg1


I love telling stories. Whether it's drawing a comic or writing fictions, the thrill of spilling out my creativity and ideas in the form of symbols, pictures and words; it's like adrenalin for me. A while back, I completed my first 'volume', you could call it, of a fiction I call Ellis In Onederland (not clever enough? sue me). It started with a series of sketches, then full-fledged pictures, till I thought to myself one day; why not write your own version of what went down the rabbit-hole? And so I did. What started off as a whimsical idea made me begin my f a i r y t a l e s project, where I'd rewrite many of the famous fables with my own twists.

Down the rabbit hole... again
The girl & the Wolf























So far I have only finished one volume of Ellis, and is still planning the second. And I am still in the process of writing Red Riding Hood. Hopefully there will be more tales to come. With each story, I experiment and improve my writing styles and storytelling skills. The more I write, the more I develop each character and expand their worlds, delving more into their backgrounds, their stories and their hearts. I try my best to explore and differentiate characters. Now as I try my hand at drama with .: Invisible Lines :., a romantic side-story of Ellis In Onederland, I experiment writing how differently lives may twist and turn, and may not always be fictional in some aspects.

Starring the White Rabbit from Ellis In Onederland.

Start reading .: Invisible Lines :.

Another year has passed and gone for me, and I am still walking along this path laid before me. Sure it's mostly unclear and foggy, and I have no guarantee where I'll end up in a few weeks, let alone a few more years down the road. But I hope and pray for the best, that all will be well. And as I continue to work hard where I am now, slowly but surely, I'll get to where I want to be. I'll continue creating art, I'll continue studying Psychology and writing Dreams; and I will be happy in life, Insya'Allah (if God wills).

Thank you, and God bless you every one.
Love,
Dyana.

. 22.02.11 Daniel .


  At first I observe the Dream as an outsider, like watching a movie up on the screen. We're in a cavern of some sort, rocky, jagged walls surrounding us with nowhere to go but up. The atmosphere is depressing, with a horrifying amber glow permeating from the endless pits at the bottom. There are people here too but I can't remember how they look like. Suspended in the air above them, above the red, gaseous pits, was an adolescent boy. He was wrapped in what looked like thick, rough, organic rope, like vines. He was hanging vertically, his hands tied behind his back, his legs and feet bounded straight. He was sobbing quietly.

  An event took place but I wasn't there to witness it. I just saw the shadows of people leaving the rocky cavern. It was at this time my persona appeared, but I can't really tell what my physical appearance looked like. All I could tell was that I was an older woman with long (dark brown or auburn) hair. The boy was left suspended in the air, alone in the dark cavern. I could hear him sobbing, “Please... g-g-get me d-down.. Pl-ea-asee..” he whimpered.

  I grabbed the ropes and, like a pulley mechanism, lowered him down, “Don't worry Daniel, I've got you, I've got you..” I seemed to call out to him. His cries were getting louder as he got closer to the ground. I was right under him, trying to catch him at the same time lower him carefully but I lost my grip and he sort of fell onto me. Though I fell backwards on the ground, it didn't hurt at all and I had caught him in my arms. I cut through the ropes and though he was free, he couldn't move – his muscles were too weak and he was stricken with fear. I cuddle him and let him rest on my chest as he sobbed louder.

  I felt him shiver in my arms, from the cold and from fear. I felt the sweat on his head and body, through his ragged clothes. I felt his chest heave with every gasp of breath he took I glanced at his back to find strips of dark red scars and slashes through his already tattered shirt. I held his head closer to my chest, my fingers digging into his long, thick hair, “Shhh... it's over... It's over..” I tried to calm him.

  He spoke, tears choking his every word, “T-they.... they just wa-w-watched.... They.. w-watched.. T-their.... only s-s-s-son... g-get flog-g-ged.. aaa-nd.. a-and..” Flashes came into my mind, replaying the event that I didn't witness before. Before he was suspended for the public viewing, he was given countless lashes on his back; right in front of his parents. From what I could tell, his parents seemed like high and powerful authority figures who took discipline seriously. As to what Daniel did to deserve this, I have no answer. My persona seemed very close to Daniel, so much so that I felt really fond of him in a sad, nurturing sort of way. He was never shown real love before, not even from his family – and now this.

  We're still on the floor, me on my back and him lying almost on top of me in a sort of fetal position. I was cuddling his head and after I tell him to stop talking, I take his face and kiss him passionately. He seems in shock, as if he had never been kissed before, or he didn't exactly know what a kiss was. The kiss stops and I look into his crystalline eyes, still watery and stinging from the tears. I wipe his flooded cheeks and tell him with a straight face, “Daniel... I will never.. EVER abandon you. You understand? Never.” He collapses back onto my chest, holding onto me tightly. He was sobbing loudly, but he sounded relieved his torture was finally over.

There wasn't much I could tell about the characters' designs. I'm still trying to fit the puzzle pieces together but overall here's what I remember. Daniel has the look and physique of an ordinary teenage boy, like around 18, 19 or so and my persona sounded a little older, a little more mature so maybe like 20-22 years old. Daniel was rather interesting, like the rest of his people, because he had baby-blue skin and crystalline teal eyes, almost green. (Megamind much?) His hair was dark, navy blue with slivers of white on the right side of his fringe. His hair was sort of long and straight with a bit of wave to it. I can't remember anything of my persona, but I'm thinking of naming her Athena. I'll probably just make up an identity for her later on.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

.: day fifteen :.


webs

spin me cobwebs of silken memories ; see them glisten in the dark of my mind.
some are perfect, while others broken ; regardless i keep them tied to me.
forever they are beautiful as well as fragile.

. 16.02.11 the wrong gender .


There were bits of pieces to this Dream but when it finally came together, it was a great idea for a story! Here's how it goes. It's set in the late 1800's and the main character is a young woman. She looks for a partner in the most unconventional way; by dressing up as a man herself. Her idea was to see if men would fall for her smarts and personality instead of her womanly figure and wealth. Because though she acted like a lower-class ruffian, she actually came from a respectable family with loads of money. But this was a different town and no one knew her and her disguise was perfect. Well, almost.

She is at a local pub and something happens, I'm unsure what exactly. Maybe she got into a fight or some older men were picking on her, actually thinking that she was really a scrawny, young boy. Being the fiesty spirit that she was, perhaps she fought back but before real chaos could ensue, she was rescued by a tall, large and rather dashing-looking man. The other men then kept away. The gentleman offered her to drink with him at the bar. He was tall, compared to her, polite and laid-back with a sense of humor. He wore a suit of pure white. He had black hair tied into a short pony tail. His skin was not too dark and not too fair either. He had an eye-patch over his right eye, and beneath it were small, partly visible burn-scars in the shape of little roses.

She was unsure why he had saved her from a possible brawl or whether he saw through her disguise but she took the offer to sit with him as he was kind enough. He said he was waiting for a friend and sure enough his friend appears from behind them. He was a burly, masculine man, slightly taller than even his friend. He was bald but he had thick black eyebrows, mustache and beard. His muscles were enormous, and they showed from his baggy, sleeveless sailor-shirt. His voice was loud and boisterous, and bellowed throughout the whole bar. It turns out he was famous in wrestling tournaments, but regardless of his intimidating size and weight, he was kind and gracious.

He put out his hand for a shake to the lady (still dressed as a boy) and when she put her hand in his, he shook it hard exclaiming something like, “This boy's as thin as a twig! I could snap you in half!” he laughed aloud. Unfortunately anything after that is very hazy to me so the Dream stops there.

If it were up to me to finish the story, here is how it would go: The gentleman (whom I've named Garrett) is looking for an assistant to help him in his workshop. He offers it to the lady (whom I'm naming Almond) and she takes it, seeing as she had a problem with unemployment. So she lives with him and spends time with him, which was troublesome seeing she still had to keep her gender a secret from him and she later realizes that she has feelings for him. This would turn out awkward since she's supposed to be playing a man. Garrett however seems to be displaying some sort of affection towards Almond, in a sense which confuses her – had Garrett discovered her secret OR was he actually interested in effeminate men?? Sergei (Garrett's wrestling friend) still doesn't know Almond's secret and thinks that Garrett's sudden attraction is disturbing. This could become a series!!!