The Islands

Ok, so Ryan went to the islands for Christmas, and as of yet, I have heard no word of how that trip went. I'm anxious to know because I was jealous of it (even though I would not have changed my own good time).

I had an insane dream, and when I woke up I actually thought it was kind of a good concept:

"I had this dream this morning that I was with a group of people sitting with a "prophet" who was telling us all what the future held-at least a main event for each person. She turned to me and said, "you can expect to walk with the dead in the river very soon. You will be shot." And I was stunned. The next move I made was to walk outside from our little meeting area, and as I opened the door, the rushing river was directly in front of me. I stepped to its edge and then I sensed something to my left. I looked over. Then, with a loud crack, I was shocked instantly and rushing head-first toward that cold moving mass beneath my feet. I had been shto in the head. I instantly died, but I still saw the water as it slammed against my face in my fall to earth. I still saw the whole world around me, except it was dingy and had a green hue-like olive green and dirty. I could not see people that were alive walking the earth. In fact, I saw no one but myself, which was a dingy, hazy version of the body I knew in life. But I felt the cold of the water. I lay among the small rocks where I fell and the icy cold rushed over me entirely. Funny, I wasn't afraid of losing breath as water filled my nose and mouth.

The forceful river was gently rocking my body as I lay in a pile submerged. It was not deep there, only about a foot of water rose from the ground. Enough to have me looking underwater at a blue cold haze. I could not move any limb, so I just let myself be rocked back and forth against the stones. But finally, the force of the water dislodged my body from where I fell and I scraped against rocks, floating downstream. Bump, bump, I hit the bottom and floated down further. I hit more rocks, then floated on again. The water was pushing me faster, then faster as I came to a sharp bend in the path. Here the river split in two, the high road slowing down, and the low road more rocky and speeding up. Of course, my weight pulled me down into the speeding wreck ahead. Smashing everything in my way, I was getting very mangled and beaten, but every thump to my soft body was felt as a dull thud that I heard more than hurt from. then I tumbled into a stop as the rush receded into a pebble-strewn flat space. Mangled, but no blood to be seen. I lifted myself which was the hardest thing ever, it seemed. I was so shaky, like using muscles for the first time.

The dream fades, I find a place in bushes with a huge bird-like statue with its mouth open pointing toward the ground (or is it a creature with angel-like wings?) This was a HOW statue. There was a hole in its head near the top, in between two antler-type horns. I saw two bars of soap near and put them through tthe hole of the statue. Then, out of the beak poured soapy water. I stood underneath to try to wash the filth of death off of me. Everything in my new view of the world looked dark and black and of very little light. Everything seemed so muted, as if seeing white was seen as a mottled, cream shade. Everything was sour, cold, forgotten-basically dead. Which is what i was now. Walking dead.

There were five levels of the journey in this dead land.

1. Seeker - that was me, seeking out answers to questions. This is why I could see the HOW statue. Apparently, anything I dropped into that statue's head, a type of answer would come from the beak to inform or help me.
2. Trainers
3. Masters
4. Sight-Seers - This fourth category could actually see people that were alive and occasionally interact with them. But because they passed through training and mastery, they knew only to interact in specific instances. The people alive in the world had a different life and so did we as the walking dead.

There were also two different zones of dead - one dark and one light. In the light zone, everything was opposite of what I saw. The water sparkled for the walking dead and the colors were bright, extremely bright. Everything seemed white on white, pale yellows and peaches. Wings were white and shades of purple gray. I think that the place that you walk as a dead walker was determined by your view of the world while you were alive. A pessimist walked the dark dead zone. An optimist had light. But this was not heaven vs. hell. This was life and death, light and dark. This was the balance of two opposing forces and the journey of the seeker had just begun."


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