Omda 1998-08-20

The walls are slightly stained, and I'm suspended four feet off the floor by a net that stretches from wall to wall. I can't reach the floor from here. There are no exits. I'm not uncomfortable, but obviously I'm not particularly pleased.

 At the risk of over-analysis, the net preventing access to the floor could be viewed as an intentional mental block. The lack of exits could be viewed as a belief that the subject would never grow up.

Thin, short trees are sparsely scattered across low-lying hills. It's early morning, but the overcast sky makes it impossible to see the sun. I start walking towards the forest and the trees are hidden by the fog until I almost run into them.

 Again at the risk of over-analysis, the fog could be viewed as a difficulty in determining a parent or guardian, perhaps indicative of some family schism.

I pick an arbitrary direction and start to walk. I try not to deviate from the path I have chosen, but the trees continually force me to make minor deviations.

The wall of water rises up, out of sight into the fog. The water is clear and the landscape on the other side does not seem to be different from the forest I've been walking through. I reach out to touch it. It is icy-cold and my hand seems to disappear as I reach through.

 Most subjects tend to describe traditional bodies of water—lakes, rivers, even oceans. Here we have a fantastic form—a free-standing wall of water; thus, movement is hard to determine.

A moldy bucket lies in a shallow sand pit several yards from the wall of water. I kick it, and blurs of sharp blackness scurry away in all directions. I look for a way to pick up the bucket without touching the thin coating of translucent yellow slime.

 The disturbing nature of this bucket is probably best left unexplored.

I turn the key in my hands several times, trying to make out the markings. I suddenly realize that I'm holding my car keys, and slow sense of dread fills me as my grip on reality comes back to me. None of this could be real, I realize. Things like this simply do not happen. I need to find my car and get the hell out of here.