Thursday, June 3, 2010
Bad dreams again last night. An eerie phone call, a familiar face with a sinister voice, a chase scene, vague sexual overtones, and I was evil somehow. I hate that. You wake up feeling sick with guilt and disoriented about reality.
“Where am I? Did I just kill someone? Who is that sleeping beside me? Somebody find a priest pronto!” When you finally conclude that it was a dream you’re simultaneously relieved and flustered. “Alright, cancel the confession but I want a sleep refund. That was not restful.”
It always happens to me on the road. Call me crazy but I blame the demons. Who knows who slept in my bedroom and what kind of weird nonsense they were into. I don’t know how it all works but somehow they managed to leave a spiritual residue. Don’t laugh, these are the cumulative conclusions of a chronically sleep deprived mind.
Maybe I’m possessed. Maybe I’m oppressed. Maybe I have a weak psyche. Maybe I should dab some oil on a doorpost. I don’t know what your demonology is, but I’m confused. It’s all too complicated for me.
I’ve read books by people who have developed comprehensive registries of all the demons and step-by-step procedures for their respective exorcisms. I’m not going to lie, it strikes me as a bit goofy. “You’re telling me there’s a demon of chocolate? And I want to cast him out, why? Bring me another Snickers.”
On the other hand, I can’t deny that the spiritual realm is real and powerful. I believe Paul when he says that my battle isn’t against flesh and blood, but I’m not ready to call every mundane disturbance an attack. Maybe it was just too much hot sauce?
But I’m in no position to be critical. I just want to sleep peacefully. Maybe I can invent some sort of mosquito net to keep out the wacky dreams. We could call it a Dream Catcher and do various chants to make it work. No, wait, that’s Voodoo, bad idea.