clouded

[freckles_and_doubt]

I honestly cannot seem to get my subconscious out of Zimbabwe, and I still can't work out what these dreams are trying to tell me. Most recently it was a particularly surreal post-apocalyptic dream-Zimbabwe, with a pitiful remnant of survivors picking through the massive, brooding ruins of the city while mist wreathed their ankles and strange things threatened from the dark. Once again I was in my grandmother's house, although this time with half the furniture missing. The apocalyptic bit is clearly a straightforward reflection of the country's current disaster state, but why the preoccupation with the grandparents' house? Too odd.

Not enjoying this weather. I'm always slow and stupid in the heat, which is not helping this chapter much, although I think some kind of new, improved version is slowly emerging from the mass of verbiage and cobbled-over logic holes. In a vague, hopeless attempt to dilute this endless sunshine, here's a cloud. A metatextual word cloud, thus encapsulating several obsessions. Note the importance of tea, cats, moles and chocolate consumption.

Comments

[strawberryfrog.livejournal.com]

Hm, a Children of Men-inspired dream?

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

Possibly in some ways, but in overall feel not really. Too few people, and without that trashy, violent ambiance. This was a kind of German impressionist city, lots of spiky black remains of crumbling skyscrapers and bleak emptiness wreathed in mist, with solitary people scratching the rubble.

[librsa]

...the post-apocalyptic cabinet of Doctor Mugabe?

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

Possibly, although I personally see him more as one of the more pitiless and mind-bending Great Old Ones. Particularly in terms of personal charm. The thing with any mad doctor archetype is that it suggests that somewhere in all the insanity is an actual plan, however warped. Zimbabwe has long ceased to be about plan in any way, and is simply about insane destruction, gibbering horror and numbers bent all out of shape.