My eyes open and no matter how many times I blink I cannot see the morning light I know should be shining through my eastern window. I can't move anything. I'm utterly robbed of all sense and control, frozen in my bed. I'm dead, is this what death is? endless void of sensation and context? a consciousness left to rot in perpetual night? I can only contemplate the horror before "it" begins. I am aware of my fingertips first, I can feel the desperate grasping of cloth and the rake of thread under my fingernails as I claw my bedspread for dear life. My Toes are curling and a flexing frantically, unable to make purchase on anything. Sensation warms my body, I can feel my heart beat again, the breath in my lungs, the grind of my teeth gradually returning to me. Suddenly I am cold, colder than I've ever been in this life or the next. My fingers and toes, knees and elbows, everything is a throbbing arctic pain that made me ache for them to be chopped from my body. The cold is in my core, I cold not just of winter ice but of perpetual blackness, devoid of light from god or sun. My skin feels frail like a brittle clay pot, I am afraid to move or even take a breath for fear of shattering myself into a million ignominious pieces. I endure a frozen mummified hell for what feels like hours, pain warps the mind's perception of time so completely it is impossible to tell for sure. I feel warm returning to my body, this time from the outside in. My frail shell of flesh feels like butter melting under a candle. It feels like hair and features are being stripped from my body and sweating down into the bed beneath me. I no longer feel things as I did before. I see with my skin, yet I see nothing. I smell with my skin, yet I have no taste. I feel my room around me, and it is not mine, yet familiar still. I am rising from the bed now, the world is still black as the void to me yet I an aware of every corner, shape, and texture in the room. I feel something more, something extra but I cannot understand what. I understand moments later, a skeletal hand caressing my featureless cheek. I reach out in panic, I am instantly holding all four walls of my room, ceiling, floor, and door at the same time. I feel the memories in the wood and I taste the sorrows of tragic moments caught in their presence like aged wine. I am stronger for it. I roar a mouthless cacophony into my perpetual night that rumbles the room like a chorus of fallen angels. I can feel my door open now, and for the first time there is light. My mind is blinded by the infinite whiteness beyond my door-frame threatening to flood my cave of black isolation. A shadow is cast out of the infinite abyss to my feet. A girl, a woman. Her eyes are green and blue. Left green, right blue. That is all I see of her, nestled in the silhouette cast through he door-frame. I feel my featureless face smile invisibly.

Weirdest dream ever. Never buying pot from Keith again.