Welcome (Version 2)

This place is the place where dreams occur;  intense dreams that last only a moment at a time. They ingrain themselves raw upon the brain so deeply, so clearly. It takes the forced recollection of an essential lack of gonads to make truthful that they are indeed only dreams and not the most fucked up sequence of memories to ever be recalled.

These dreams haunt, terrorize, and give hope all at the same time.  Mild incarnations include screaming, flipping the bird, or some other obscene gesture.  They would make dear Grandmother turn away with a mousy yelp and little Billy stop riding his bike for an hour.  Stronger manifestations may have one engaged in a biting fight with an arch enemy taking place in a vat of gelled spit.  Sometimes the dream will include the mass genocide of puppy dogs hanging from crocheted nooses. Knives often come into play by serving as a tool of God's will to a reverend walking in on his teenage daughter blowing the local drug dealer.  Most of the dreams usually end in being behind the wheel of a car that's plummeting in slow motion off from an old bridge during rush hour traffic. The bridge is always one that exists in real life no more than a mile away from home. Who knows how dear Grandmother or little Billy would react to the earthquakes that the brain can create in this place?


Welcome to retail.