Sunday, May 13, 2012

moon clown. factory funhouse experiment

Prologue
The trouble with relaying dreams is that most elements of the dream reference highly personalized notions. My dreams sometimes center on a fragment of an idea or a certain color, or conjure intense emotion that I can't validly explain afterwards... I begin unraveling the "events" of the dream and retell it in the western style (event-centered so you're asking always "what happens next?" and all your motive to watch centers on getting your questions answered) and as the events take form and fall in order I can't seem to grasp with my waking mind why I felt so afraid or sad during the dream.
A lot of times, also, my brain pulls a very old memory or even recycles a dream I've had before, almost like to reiterate to me whatever the dream's purpose. Dreams are so easy to forget about, especially with our busy lives and the quick wake-ups we do, but I can't seem to shake how important I feel dreams are. Though my blog has been sparse lately, I've recorded quite a few over the last year via voice recording- which is faster and more accessible. Although impossible to transcript. I did two maybe and it took forever so I gave up. My dreams function in many ways. It works out my emotional turmoil and stress in lush vibrant images that lack plot but are fully saturated with meaning. I think the nature of any dream is specific to the dreamer. It's like an art... When I dream it seems the most highly creative parts of my brain turn on and make things I can't make deliberately. It feels almost like someone else put those dreams there and certainly I didn't create anything that lovely. Even the scary dreams are lovely- which brings me to this morning.
The dream I had this morning woke me a bit after 6am. Seems anymore I don't have a dream I think about all day but I have spent all day thinking of this. It scared me so bad I couldn't fall asleep again. Though thinking through it, it's hard to relay what exactly was so scary...

DREAM
I am with a group of people I don't know in reality. A tall skinny guy, a heavy-set black girl and two other indistinct strangers. It's evening, sun just setting and we are coming upon this enormous building. Can't even take the whole thing in with one look. How we got there and how we heard of it are irrelevant- we're just there and very curious.
Outside it seems to invite what's inside. And that's the thing about this place- it's constant allure, it's pull, it's mystery. It's sinister but desirable. You can't stifle your urge to go further.
The whole yard is silent except for us and we walk slowly, absorbing everything with care yet utmost fascination. Outside is what looks like a playground- most of it made of sun-washed wood... like it's been there a very long time. And the building, though very old looking, doesn't look run down. The windows are intact and there's no overgrowth. It's plain and looks like upkeep is done... but not one soul is around. No one. It's so quiet.
We start playing on this playground. There are long boards laid out so you can walk across from pillar to pillar. It's like a down-play of what's to offer inside- simpler because it's free.
(see, again, how dreams factor in just notions... of how an amusement/attraction has little simpler things on the outliers for when you're just arriving or leaving and it's to entertain the kids while you wait for more people to show up or whatever-- that impossible to relay with just visuals... it's a highly personalized interpretation of real world set up. My dreams are so chalk-full of these)
We run, start to loosen up. There is just dirt on this "playground." And monkey bars, hard thick metal... old fashioned style. like they made in the 20s.  today metals used on playgrounds looks so less heavy duty.  The building had an air of massive about it, of old-style  manner of constructing something.
We go inside.

As soon as you enter there is no grand hall or big lobby-like area. There's just a small office like room with two steps leading up towards a "T" hallway, narrow and dimly lit. And yes this was the main entrance. There's a stand to buy stuffed animals. I grab a dark brown bear but there's no place to pay.
Off to the right is what sounds like air pressure in pipes, faint, distant.
To the left we can see the start of an area opening. Like a side room. The walls have stripes of red and purple... almost circus like... or maybe fun house is the better word. But it feels more like a factory. FACTORY. It's massive and with more purpose than to entertain.

We walk down to the left, see that the opening has given way to this slight platform in a crescent moon shape. Half-circle.  No buttons, no switches but clearly inviting, this thing. Clearly meant to entertain.
In the middle of the half-circle is what looks like a plastic bubble and beyond that a silent clown head. Like a doll or mannequin that just needs you to put a quarter in to give it the juice to start moving.
But there's no slot for $. Just that bubble. The clown head is very large and in a perpetual smile. Bright reds and stark whites like usual. Your typical Bozo. It's not lit up behind him (mystery) It's simply black like there could be 100 feet of space behind him or just inches, no telling.
His head is bigger than our bodies and seems to be looking at the bubble. Like to say, if you want to play with the clown you get in the bubble. But the bubble is so small, like a mini crawl space. Tight, constricting, odd.
One of the guys in my group decides he isn't leery. He has faded green pants. He starts getting in. The bubble starts whirring and slowly turning like it's starting up. He hasn't had a chance to get fully inside. Suddenly it spins faster. His legs are sticking out. We watch helpless. Will he be injured or killed? Is that what it's design is? To trick? like a mouse trap?
It spins faster and faster until we can't even see him anymore and then suddenly pulls inward toward the clown. A side wall jars out so we can't see the clown or the bubble anymore from our angle.
Then just seconds later retracts. The bubble stops spinning and all stops. He lies motionless, apparently dead. But we can't tell if he's just unconscious. His legs sprawl sideways. I clutch that bear and his musty smell.
The heavy black girl starts running down the hallway screaming. It's more purple down that way. the colors bounce of the walls. I wake up.

:::
That's ALL i got to see. Even when I woke terrified at that building I wanted to see more of what was in there... Gah it was like the building was a living thing. mind of deceit...  so enticing though.
i didn't see much and not much actually happened, but this dream fascinates me because, despite that, it still managed to stick in my mind all day. It was its aura or impression.  What it implied. The "idea" it creates. Of mystery and lure. Malintent by baiting human amusement and simple playful curiosity. I got the impression afterwards that the building only appears as a fun house or place of entertainment.. like a indoor amusement park or carnival... but instead was an experiment by ... well, whomever...  faulty scientists? maybe that's the scariest mystery of all. why would they build this? Did they feel guilt about killing people? Is whatever data they were collecting about human curiosity worth loss of life?
I can tell the building was old, like early 1900s at least. Probably late 1800s. It had that smell.
And who was running it now? Someone had to know about the power coming out here. Someone had to be keeping the foliage back, the windows not busted, and the dust and spiders out. Someone waxed the floors. Which is my point about the building being alive. it's like something happened to it, like it was embodied. it tended itself, didn't need people anymore. Draws energy by solar perhaps...
The speculations about this building are endless... endless.
it grows like a real organism.. builds more rooms and halls inside it the same way people can create neural pathways in their brains and hard athletes can create new blood vessels.
and it burrows deeper into the ground, like layers of basements... more mystery.
I know I dreamed about that half-moon clown before... I know that was something I thought of a LONG LONG time ago and haven't thought of in years. I think seeing Killer Klowns From Outer Space as a kid made me invent that little scene... and it forgot all this time. Sometimes I have those little kernels in my mind. just bits.. and then they come out randomly and I feel like OH! that's from so long ago. it's the biggest aha! getting access to a part of your brain you didn't have before. one outlier memory. it just feels so cool.
and the red and purple. wow.... i think those colors have this extremely ugly quality when next to each other. they do not compliment each other. Environment is so important in my dreams. Red is flashy, intense. Purple is a popular girl color. It seems to suggest darker feminism. while pink is more innocent, girly. Having them side by side seems to draw all their suggestiveness into horrid atrocious over-decadence. too much intense deep color. too much attention.
purple is more a cold color, red is so hot. but they don't lie side by side like opposite as black and white can.
I saw just 1% of that place. i really felt it get under my skin. no one sees it all. they die first. or they get lost in the void.


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