I am by no means a good writer. I failed the highest required English class in college 3 times, and I've never really gotten good at this sort of thing. These stories will be separated in time, but for now I am posting the stories in the order which is most relevant to reveal information that might aid in understanding the other stories. My writing style is sporadic, goes from tone to tone, mostly depending on how fucked up I am (I'm fucking trashed right now btw). There is no consistency in this whatsoever, which is why I am doing this on blogspot to be able to go back and edit things as the story progresses. Once it's all out there, I'll figure out what to do with it.
That being said, I am one creative son of a bitch (if I do say so myself, which I do, I just said it) and this story and the music which told of it was the center of my life 6 or 7 years ago. Being a story built from strange "premonitions", which I'm still to this day unsure of whether or not to take seriously, and having just returned from that place, I am urged once again to at least put the story out there.
A wise man once said, the human mind is highly susceptible to hallucinations. Much as a religious man can feel the presence of something that isn't there, and truly believe in it's existence to comfort them, so have I to fulfill this human desire for that comforting "faith". The only difference is knowing the line of where fiction begins, and where the truth lies. I realize that it is simply the outlet of my overly creative to wear itself out in a state of substance fueled madness, but at the same time, there is something I can't quite describe about those dreams, and "visions" through the Northgate.
There is something real about this, in some indescribable way, and the logic in which I was brought up to apply refers to the beginning quote of the previous paragraph. To think of things rationally, and to realize that this is merely an outlet of creativity, I've realized this for some time, but I still cannot shake that feeling of "something".
It's been a long time since I've had any kind of addition to this project, and any visits to that place have been purely for nostalgic purposes. Long ago I would visit that place and see things in that great wall, and the messages would haunt me until I finally fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, only to have some strange dream, most of the time related to what was written/drawn there by my eyes.
After spending time to recall this story, a sudden rain finally came to our area. Our extreme drought will take 3 years of above average rainfall to recover from at this point, and we welcome any small showers to come our way. I saw this fog as a rare chance to return to the place where all of this began. Obvious coincidence, but still my mind wonders. What may determine the stories outcome will be whether I dream or not, which I haven't for a long time. The backstory on that is from the last dream I had, I won't bore you with the details, but it ended with "you can never return."
I guess I should wait til after slumber to come to any further conclusions, I am in that state of delirium I felt from so long ago... awake for a few days, extremely high and extremely drunk in an effort to fall asleep. My mind is so active, that the only depressant that can tame it is xanex, but my fear that its overuse will become a dangerous habit. So awake for a day or three at a time, plus the substances I intake to initiate the slumber lead to a strange, yet enjoyable delirium.
Coming back from that place, it brings back a usually delightful madness with me that carries on until I fall asleep and have some crazy dream. I am in the mouth of madness, and I am yearning for more visions. Well, at this point being awake this long, the most I can hope for is a little shut eye, and speaking of shutting up, I should probably just shut up. Until tomorrow at least.
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