A Crimson Razor Blade

Surreal thoughts

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In my dream, I was attached to a crimson razor blade, I had used it to commit suicide in order to get into purgatory to hang out with my relatives and friends. Each time,  I had miraculously resurrected  my remains from the dead by running away from the light in the tunnel. I had  also worked with my dear sharp friend to relieve the anger and fear. I must admit, it was very easy to use, a little malicious bastard knew how to kill the pain instantly through breaking the surface of skin tissue, going straight to the core of a problem.

What happened to the blood, it must have spurted all over the place?  ‘No’, the manipulative moron replied- ‘Your blood was drained off to avoid any unnecessary mess in my decaying shed. You have become an obedient creature who is going to live under my conditions….’

I don’t know, I start to panic,

What to do?

What to do? Mum, help me?

I wake up drenched in sweat. Am I afraid of mental pain which never goes away, solitude, or eternal unhappiness?

I pledge to flout convention, reject tradition, and dwell in my own world.

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One thought on “A Crimson Razor Blade

  1. I approach dreams with a Jungian eye, in which we all have our own specific dream-vocabulary, and in which imagery is specific to the dreamer. But, in a more universal sense, death is often a strong signifier of change, and blood of life. Our dreams can become more and more dramatic if our subconscious feels it’s being ignored. Robert A. Johnson wrote a great book on dream analysis called “Inner Work”, if you are interested in plumbing your dreams’ meanings. Please dismiss me if I seem wordy and obnoxious, or know-it-all-ish — not my intention! Wishing you well, regardless! 🙂

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