This applies to EVERYONE: I started this thing to put down how I feel about things at a certain time. When I want to talk, but feel like I can't. It's really just that simple. If you don't like it, I'm sorry. I'm not out to make anyone feel like they're being put down. If you feel that way, there must be some truth in what I'm saying.

7/23/2004

Dream sequence: I'm in a room somewhere. An aged room, the wood worn and the paint dried and cracking off the walls and doors. The room isn't lit, but I have a flashlight in my pocket (Silent Hill style) and I'm looking for keys scattered around the room to open a door. Before I can get these keys, there are menial tasks that I have to complete, revealing the keys. I must complete all tasks, reveal the keys, and gather them before a hairless mutt (dog) eats the keys.
 
I complete the tasks, but the dog has already eaten two of the keys. I reach down to the floor and grab something that resembles a hatchet, and as the dog is swallowing the next key, I slit it's throat. Blood pours across the floor and the key falls from its throat. It's entire body goes inside-out and then implodes upon itself, leaving a large puddle of blood on the floor.
 
I take the keys, line them up on a shelf behind me, and open a door in front of me to my right. The door opens easily enough, a huge billowing cloud of fog flying out as soon as the door opens. Once the fog has cleared, I see that behind the door is nothing but a broom closet.
 
End sequence.
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