So the dreams are ... I mean, some of us get qualities from the dreams - powers or our looks change or stuff like that. In my dreams, the high priest of Hell wants me. And I don't mean a cute little guy with a pitchfork.
I mean a fucking freak with pins in his face who tears people apart layer by layer with meathooks. He's obsessed with me. I dreamed last night I was dating this guy named Edgar. Writer type. Sweet, considerate in bed, gorgeous - I loved him. And he kept proposing and I kept saying no, thinking it would keep him safe.
And fucking Pinhead gave him the box. He sent a human patsy to give Edgar the fucking puzzle box and it peeled his face off before he bled to death. Because Pinhead wants me. Loves me. Needs my humanity, whatever the hell that means.
If he shows up, I swear to god, I'll eat my gun first.
I wonder sometimes if instead of changing somehow, I'll get my stalker. Like ... I'm not a paranoid person, I'm a damn cop, but I keep looking over my shoulder all the time. Waiting for the toll of a church bell, waiting for the walls to crack open and for him to show up in his leather butcher's apron, saying my name. His voice is ... beautiful in its way, just like him. Symmetry fighting against chaos -
I should sleep. Anyone have any tips on how to sleep even though you don't want to?