Dreams in the aftermath of sensory overload

Spending a large chunk of a friday and saturday in as close to a sensory deprivation enviroment is a great way to start a weekend. (still had touch). I dont know why I did have this attack, but it hit me about 3-4pm friday. The dreams you get in those, even better. A snippet of the odd lucidity of the thing still in memory.

Blood, silent echoes, and gore encrusted webs greeted me in the dead awakening of the dilapidated bus. Overhanging storage racks holding the last items and remains of the jenny. Rushing out in the summer air, quiet despite the heavy insect population to gasp and gag at the overpowering imagery seared into my eyes. In the minutes to pass, nerves and senses slowly working into some semblance of being. In the walk back in, both to gather my things, and see if someone had actually lived, the eyes strayed to a small hand sewn donkey, felt, at a further inspection. Pristine amongst the carnage wrought, its silent eyes looked in and to the side, a tooth and small blue-green pill at the edge of the drivers seat.

"They're pure, aren't they?" The words slipping out unconsciously at the doll, the faint glimmer of something in those eyes an acknowledgement. Hands grabbed each, and the doll in the other, to leave. The game, still going strong in the court, my next destination. Upon entering, once more did my sight approach to the small astronaut, blackened visor hiding anything of whom or what he was. The grinning twins sat nearby, watching me, yet mocking the game being played with slasher smiles. A tad on the shoulder to raise the small ones attention, and show him the two items. A glance to the donkey doll in hand, and a worried shine mirrored there, before closing my hand, and a hard kick launched at the twins that had approached.

(Sadly i had awoken by the sound of an alarm to this afterward. But all throughout the dream before to have this odd twin peaks, x-files, supernatural normallness to it all.)