Vortex

The world is ending and it is my fault... moment by moment people succumb to the dream spreading like a virus through the imaginary. The vortex holds them in thrall, hijacking their reality. I go now to the end of the world, to the holder of our world's salvation. If it will not listen... if reason does not prevail, there leaves no other option. I will die there and take the dream within myself or our world will die in its sleep... Sounds like a plan.

Awake Corporeal Servant!

Ghosts given form...They are ambassadors from the afterlife selling energy for the price of a few souls. Are they slave or master? Junky or pusher? Without the suit, they are formless and can regenerate anywhere. Without Millenisium they have no power.

Inner Dialogue with an Other Dimensional Diplomat

They spoke through their vessel and interpreter... the child, Daniel, who's mental doorway to the Word was opened from the moment he was conceived.

We watch him with awe and suspicion. Being that he is their mouthpiece, he is still merely a child, and to wield such power is more than any human being should be made to bear. What is it like to be this child? Can he possibly comprehend that with each dialogue, he becomes less human? ... and more alien.

Mental Sparring

There's a game we play in our dreams... We train ourselves to become more than passive observers and mold a reality dredged from the remains of our waking lives... The challenge is knowing it is a dream, becoming one with it, being loose enough not to choke the life out of something already teetering on the edge of existence. It is a competition. Mastery of this game, however, means grasping the utter essence of life itself. Some say its as if you could grasp the mind of God... overcoming the ego, and yet remaining human.