I've been dreaming again.

And those dreams are not good things.

No, they've been a cross between bad memories, nightmares, and well... something vaguely reminiscent of Dante's vision of Hell, if Dante was modernized into the gratuitous gore and violence fest of today's vision.

And I rather hate this.

I especially hate that these dreams happen as I'm on the edge of waking up and sometimes find myself struggling not to flail about, succeeding only barely at times.

I would vastly prefer if the dreams weren't so terrifying to me. And if they were to terrify me, didn't manage to some how linger in my awareness thru the day, leaving me with a vague sense of danger at odd moments because I can almost hear that horrible voice in my head saying wretched things to me.

Thank god that voice does not have an actual face to go with it, as I fear it would probably prove to be something beautiful in a most terrifying way. And I'm most thankful that I only have to suffer it within my head, rather then in flesh and blood. Facing such a monster on a daily basis in a 'real' person... well, I'd either be committing murder or suicide.