Dreamjournal of Malthus
The dreams of a madman

Last night the year began in darkness as I labored to bring about coherence to the scribbles I’ve been keeping. My dreams were vivid in my torporous slumber yesterday, a phenomena new to me. So striking and strong were they that I have decided to record them here in this book, along with any others like it that may come.

In my dreams I wandered the world far and wide, seeking out five or so faceless individuals. Individuals called curious names, objects or ideas, not proper names. They were chariot, hermit, hierophant, lovers, and moon. The old traveler woman with eyes like sapphire stars whispered that if these were not found, the seven dark knights would gather and whisper in Uriel’s ears. And should Uriel hear the whisper an ancient dragon that slumbered on the ocean’s floor would eat my soul. And I feared this old woman’s gaze. It burnt blue, with fiery pain in the back of my skull. And when she spoke the whispers that always cloud my head were silent.
When she faded away I saw a chessboard built like a chinese-checkers set, with 13 players moving at different speeds. In my hands rested a most curios watch, that started and stopped with every move. The dark players, obscured by impossible shadows, flicked their hands and licked their lips in time with the clock’s 13 hands.
One chair was empty, though pieces sat at that end of the board.
I could hear a knocking on a door, and I begged they did not open it. But open it did, and with it’s blinding light I awoke.


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