Lines, words, letters. [15]

Nothing meaningful, unless for you it is.


Chapter 6 – The dream

After the doctor had made his tests, took some blood and gave her another injection, they left her alone. She just got very tired again and fell into a deep sleep.

She woke up again, but when she stood up, she wasn‘t in her small cage like room.

It was sunny outside and she was in her house. Was it all just a dream? Well, a hell of a dream for sure. ‚Is this real?‘ She walked outside her sleeping room. All seemed normal. But there it was again, this strange feeling. Something wasn‘t right. Ally walked down the small hallway of her house, towards the front door. She wanted to open it, but it didn‘t move. Was it locked?

When she turned around, she saw a board with some keys, well one of them must be the door key. Where is it? Ah there it is. ‚Man, this dream really got me. It was all so real‘.

With a confused smile on her face, she turned around again and turned the key a couple of times until the door was open. Outside was the very bright sun light and fresh air coming in.

A great day, it seemed. There was some cold air moving past her.

‚Strange. What was that?!‘

And before she could move her head a round, a loud slamming sound went through her mark.

The door was shut. It scared her, but she just thought it must have been the wind. Luckily she had the key in her left trouser pocket. So she just opened the door again, walked in and closed it behind her. ‚That was weird. Maybe it was just the dream. I think I am still not over it yet. Let‘s find something to eat.‘

Alair moved towards the kitchen. Maybe there was still some milk and a pack of oat flakes somewhere. She just had this need for some oat flakes. They always make her feel better and they are really filling, as well as healthy. At least as far as she knew.

‚Probably in the shelf. A there is the blue box.‘ She took a spoon and a soup plate, as well as the milk and the flakes of course. Then she went into the living room, where she had her projector. Her little home cinema, you could say. She wanted to have something like this for a long time now and just recently she fulfilled her dream. It wasn‘t perfect, but who cares, it was her own cinema and she loved it.

There it was again, some cold air passing by. What was going on? Is this still the dream, is she just overreacting?

She started to eat. Then there was something on the table next to the plate. Just another of these bugs which often come in during winter time. Although they look strange and she doesn‘t like when they fly around, somehow she liked them. They seemed so immortal in some way. In the cold winter air, they almost freeze, just to move again, when it gets a little warmer. Scary, but cool. They just don‘t seem to die from cold, just freeze until the temperature rises. Well, they would probably die when it would be around -20 °C outside, but nowadays or in her country at least, the winters are getting warmer and warmer, it seemed.

Almost no snow, almost no cold, just a little colder then autumn or spring time. She hates summer time, it is just too hot most of the time.

She started the series which she watched before, what was it?

On the Netflix page the name „Undertree“ appeared.

Weird name though, but well it was a very interesting find.

While she started to watch the next episode, she took some spoons full of oat flakes. Then she thought ‘Well, I need some cocoa powder for this.‘ The bug started to fly and she moved into the kitchen, away from this drunken pilot bug.

In the kitchen the air seemed a lot warmer than in the living room, but this wasn‘t too special. The heating in the kitchen was just hotter and also the room wasn‘t as big as the living room. But suddenly the temperature was a lot colder. Was this still just her imagination? Something must be wrong, she felt it even stronger now. Another one of these bugs, she named them “American spy bugs” because they originally came from Northern America, when she once looked them up. Pretty resistant little bugs, maybe they could become the new cockroaches, as far as she remembers, she probably had seen way too many of these bugs, but never a single cockroach.

There was the cocoa powder and right back into the living room. ‚I hope the drunken bug stopped flying around now.‘

When she walked towards the living room, there was again this cold air passing by. „Okay, what the hell is going on!?“

Pages 44 – 46 of Lines, words, letters.


But I hope you don’t think this is it, do you?

I am not sure where I am going with my comments, but the book sure is good to be read again. Because now as a reader (reading it the first time myself) I can analyze myself better.

The thing is, would someone else have written this, I would probably be very excited for the next pages. But because it was me, it all feels strange. I often had this feeling when reading old poems I wrote or songs I never sang. It was as if I didn’t write it and I also sometimes couldn’t even remember writing something like it. Pretty strange, but no wonder when I think about all my problems. Just basic self defense: Forget / Suppress everything, so it can’t hurt you. Well, it did work a long time, but at some point even the strongest barriers can’t hold back what is behind them.

It is good in a way because I actually survived the break of the barriers, but I must add, it wasn’t because of me. I just wasn’t meant to die yet. I am still not sure about how long I will live looking on my physical health, but yeah I am breathing and finally doing something which makes me feel and even feels good in a way.

And well, the Netflix series AD VITAM also did a major change. I think it probably even was “the” change. At first it was strange to feel this intense or feel at all again. But it was good. Maybe not the right time from an observers perspective (when I watched it and started to feel again), but otherwise I might have gone crazy anyways. In a way I was it since my childhood for many reasons. But now I finally can heal all that and work on it. Put the pieces together and such things. A lot of little T’s as the therapists might say. No wonder I feel this broken… no wonder. But for many years I just blocked it all, so I didn’t even realize how bad it was. I simply forgot about it.

And while Alair or Ally, in some way represents me in a way, she still has her own character and her own things. It is not all me. For me Ally was more like a twin sister I never had or a soul mate. And well, the other characters have their own stories as well.

I think in a way, an author has the understanding of all or at least many people. Some through experience, some through deep research and friends maybe. When it comes to writing out different characters it can be difficult and so I think that parts of the story are not detailed enough. Some characters have unrealistic behavior, but then again, it could also be just their strange individual character. I don’t know. But while I wrote it, I thought, that some plots are to dry or lame. And also unrealistic sometimes. For example the contract part with the book. It is very strange and unrealistic, but because I didn’t came up with something better it is part of the story now. Live with it. 😀

What is the major difference between a young woman and an old man?

The years they existed so far.

(If you watched AD VITAM, you probably know what I mean. Maybe I am alone with this, who knows, right?)

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