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In a silo, dreams and reality |
by Underground Panther in the Sky, Unknown News
March 7, 2006
Silos are tall, round, and often made of cinderblock. They are used to
store grain. If you walk inside an empty silo it's a really strange-looking round room. It's only about 7 or 8 feet in diameter.
To relax, I used to escape to an old silo on a farm near where I grew up.
When I was younger, in my real life, it was a magical place to me. It was
private, and it had a complicated entrance to get in. First you had to go
in a creepy old abandoned barn, then climb through a little door off the
side. The neighborhood kids believed it was haunted and were scared to
go there. But I loved the place.
The particular silo I went to long ago was old. It had no roof, so the ground was
covered with a velvety soft beautiful moss. There were small blue flowers
on a vine along the wall, and the light was very strange in there. Bats
and birds flew in from the barn from time to time, and would flit around
until they realized up was out. I used to do magic and meditate and do
art in there. If you sat against the wall and looked up you saw just a
spot of the sky overhead. It was surreal, and it was one of my most favorite
spaces to be.
My dream happened in another silo. This silo was much bigger, it was perhaps
40 feet in diameter, it was taller, and it had a top on it. This silo was also
fitted with a HUGE, at least 12 foot high, curved plasma TV, mounted to
the curved cinderblock wall.
The silo was filled up to the mid
thigh level with mixed nuts in the shell, pecans, walnuts, filberts,
brazil nuts, peanuts, almonds, etc. It was nighttime, and some other people and I were locked in this weird silo. We all slept among the nuts. It was noisy with the constant clattering of
nutshells, and the echo effect of the silo made it very loud and
distorted.
I was awake at night because I was constantly picking at
what I thought was the silo door with a Leatherman tool. I would dig a
little pit in the nuts to hide what I was doing, as a searchlight would
sweep the surface of the nuts while the other people slept and talked
among the nuts. Because it was a silo, so it had those strange acoustics one
can only find inside a silo.
The silo had one room off of it. The room was locked at night, and so we
were herded out of the silo and into this room every morning. This room
looked like a dayroom, like you would find in any small scale psychiatric
ward, complete with bad reception TV blaring, this-end-up furniture, tacky
plastic cushions, a butt-ugly industrial metal table with that fake
walnut wood top, a microwave and kitchenette, those chairs scattered
about that look like high school library chairs, and that typical crap-colored indoor/outdoor carpet, and "neutral" colored curtains, and
those big glass windows that don't open, with mental ward locking
screens over them.
One night locked in the silo, this older guy who apparently was some sort
of authority figure called me over to where he was standing in front of
the Plasma TV. He was disheveled and fancied himself a 'prophet'. I thought he was gonna let me have it about trying to get out
of the silo ... but no, he had an issue with me; he thought I was anti-social and
unhappy.
I was gonna roll my
eyes, but I decided it might be wiser to humor him because he looked, well,
like he might flip out on me at any moment. He was standing among the nuts
up to his knees preaching, while the HUGE plasma TV behind
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The silo was filled up to the mid thigh level with mixed nuts in the shell, pecans, walnuts, filberts, brazil nuts, peanuts, almonds, etc.
It was nighttime, and some other people and I were locked in this weird silo.
We all slept among the nuts.
It was noisy with the constant clattering of nutshells, and the echo effect of the silo made it very loud and distorted.
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Underground Panther in the Sky
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There's much more than this at Unknown News.
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him flickered
to life, and as he spoke about the weird shit in his head it was
mimicked on the TV screen in pictures.
It was as if the TV had a direct line
into his mind's eye. When he spoke of explosions, on TV I saw a bomb
explode before he finished speaking the thought. When he spoke of me, my
face was there, as if I was looking through his eyes. It was so
creepy, as he moved his arms about emphasizing his words there was a
huge shadow figure on the TV mimicking his movements ... or was he
mimicking the shadow? Who the hell knows?
This shadow did not obscure
the pictures, though. The images on the screen made no coherent sense, and
the TV apparently had no sound. It was so very strange. The constant rattling of the nutshells and the murmuring people really
sounded distorted. Some people sat slack-jawed, while others rocked
facing another wall, and others did other stuff, lost in their own
space. It was beyond surreal.
The old guy said to me, "Behold! The universe is in here, the secret
is all around."
I don't know why but I asked him, "Why do I have an imagination? I can
so easily imagine a better world than this. Why imagine, if it only
causes me despair because of where I am? Why have the ability to
imagine such beauty, only to suffer my dreams deferred, forever
unattainable? Since reality is not my making why must I imagine another
better place, and long for it but never go there? Why must I be conscious
of this, and hurt because of it?"
The old guy moaned and collapsed against the screen. And as he sank into
the nuts to a sitting position, he handed me one of those 100-calorie packs of miniature cookies, and as he bent over and handed it
to me,
on the screen behind him a child was getting a Eucharist put on his
tongue.
I took the cookies, opened the pack, and a small puff of mold dust pouffed
out. They were rotten, so covered in green mold I wondered how old they
were. There was no expiration date on the pack.
The old guy was lying against the wall, mumbling and shaking and lost in his own
world, totally out of
it, his eyes rolled behind his head ... and the TV was dark. I was gonna throw the cookies
away, but instead I gave them to some lady mumbling among the nuts, who
asked me for them.
The next day I was in the dayroom with the people. They had taken those
rotten cookies and made pizza dough out of them, and they were rolling it
out on a table. The cookies had been rotted, so the dough was black and green and stank.
In the background, 'Walking on the Sun' by Smashmouth was playing
on a record player, like the ones they used to have in schools, while on
the cheesy TV a soap opera, Days of Our Lives was beginning, the music and the soap blaring at the same time.
I told the people that the cookies they were
making that dough from were bad, moldy, but they seemed to disbelieve me and
they ate it anyway. They tried to convince me it was safe to eat, but I would not eat it and my polite refusal really offended them. They
thought I was arrogant for not eating that rotten cookie pizza dough.
I
observed them and noticed the dough had weird effects. It made the
people seem really psychotic, lost in their own worlds ... but at
the same time they acted like they were controlled by a mind outside of
their own heads. It was really fucking weird. They would move in unison
even though they were in different worlds, each person moving for their own
different reason, but regardless of their individual motives they ended up
moving the same way ... synchronized on cue.
That night I was picking at the silo door again. Picking and picking, but it
seemed so futile. The light would repeatedly sweep past me, the nuts on
the edge of my little pit lit up brightly as the searchlight went
past. The searchlight had no discernable light source.
The other people
were sitting, sleeping, mumbling, staggering around in the nuts,
oblivious to what I was doing. I took my tool and jammed it into
the doorjamb and leveraged, and my tool slipped, scraping a streak in the
paint. Again I crammed the Leatherman tool in the doorjamb, and again. Time
seemed to speed up, the light swept by faster and faster.. and I was
there picking and picking the door, everything still unchanged, and this is
how the dream ended.
I think this was one of the most clear and true dreams I have ever had
about the nature of this reality.
© by the author.
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