In my dream took place a big invasion of new-breed nazis.
P. and me were at our house, packing a few things to go on vacation when it took place. They barged into our houses, grabbed people, beat them up and trapped their faces in metallic masks. People panicked and were trying to flee the country. They were too cruel for anyone not on their side to take the risk to stay here and resist. I was in a room that reminded me of my old room in my mother's house. The door opened and a girl with aryan features and red, glowing eyes smiled at me with malice. She had a pen with a sharp edge and tried to pinch my hands. When I figured out what she was trying to do I resisted. Somehow I managed through our straggle to lead her to a main building where I thought I might find someone to help me. Indeed, I found a prisoner before a fridge and he hit her on the head and hid her in there. I heard on the street that they infected people with HIV. They imported members from other countries and gave them our apartments. They also gave their members better houses than they already had. A guy with his big, pregnant Aryan wife came to leave in ours. He was acquainted with some old friends of mine. He said he had chosen to leave in my house because he and his wife liked my art. They would turn my room into the baby's room. He also informed me that my friends N., A. and G. with her boyfriend had all been made members. I though about it as an option for a little while. Perhaps if we all joined we might be able to forma group for resistance and fight them from the inside. Quick decisions had to be made.
I packed as little as possible in a back pack and left everything else behind, knowing that the chances of getting my old life back were little. We hit the road, making a last effort to head to the boarders. Lots of people were traveling this way. I was thinking that with the enemy having access to social media it would be really easy to track us down. We started climbing a mountain when I got a view of the city from above and I was also moving towards the centre of it, like a long traveling from a helicopter but I was not on one. It felt more as if I was hanging from a crane. I saw people hiding on roofs when an already existing resistance made their first crucial hit to the party's satellite. I saw the prison-masks break and the prisoners, free but exhausted, falling on the floor.
I went back to my house. The Aryan woman, holding her newborn in her hands, gave me a disgusted look. At the back of her fat neck she had a black pillowy implant that resembled the foamy pillows of headphones. She would definitely grab the first opportunity to turn me in and no one would believe I was a supporter, and even if I claimed to be one, how could I act with such cruelty? These people killed without a glimpse. I would not be a very convincing member. Neither would my eyes burn red for their cause.
The alarm clock brought me back to my warm bed.
P. and me were at our house, packing a few things to go on vacation when it took place. They barged into our houses, grabbed people, beat them up and trapped their faces in metallic masks. People panicked and were trying to flee the country. They were too cruel for anyone not on their side to take the risk to stay here and resist. I was in a room that reminded me of my old room in my mother's house. The door opened and a girl with aryan features and red, glowing eyes smiled at me with malice. She had a pen with a sharp edge and tried to pinch my hands. When I figured out what she was trying to do I resisted. Somehow I managed through our straggle to lead her to a main building where I thought I might find someone to help me. Indeed, I found a prisoner before a fridge and he hit her on the head and hid her in there. I heard on the street that they infected people with HIV. They imported members from other countries and gave them our apartments. They also gave their members better houses than they already had. A guy with his big, pregnant Aryan wife came to leave in ours. He was acquainted with some old friends of mine. He said he had chosen to leave in my house because he and his wife liked my art. They would turn my room into the baby's room. He also informed me that my friends N., A. and G. with her boyfriend had all been made members. I though about it as an option for a little while. Perhaps if we all joined we might be able to forma group for resistance and fight them from the inside. Quick decisions had to be made.
I packed as little as possible in a back pack and left everything else behind, knowing that the chances of getting my old life back were little. We hit the road, making a last effort to head to the boarders. Lots of people were traveling this way. I was thinking that with the enemy having access to social media it would be really easy to track us down. We started climbing a mountain when I got a view of the city from above and I was also moving towards the centre of it, like a long traveling from a helicopter but I was not on one. It felt more as if I was hanging from a crane. I saw people hiding on roofs when an already existing resistance made their first crucial hit to the party's satellite. I saw the prison-masks break and the prisoners, free but exhausted, falling on the floor.
I went back to my house. The Aryan woman, holding her newborn in her hands, gave me a disgusted look. At the back of her fat neck she had a black pillowy implant that resembled the foamy pillows of headphones. She would definitely grab the first opportunity to turn me in and no one would believe I was a supporter, and even if I claimed to be one, how could I act with such cruelty? These people killed without a glimpse. I would not be a very convincing member. Neither would my eyes burn red for their cause.
The alarm clock brought me back to my warm bed.
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