Fevered Dreams

For any of you who also play Guild Wars, this title may ring a bell, it will if you have ever played Mesmer anyway, or even encountered anyone who does, which I guess encompasses pretty-much all the people I play with. But though the title is quite clearly that of the elite Mesmer skill that spreads conditions like dandelion clock seeds in a hurricane, this is not a Guild Wars post... for the main part.

Ok, so I'll admit right now that I have begun to think about developing new characters, and my skill with them. It has become clear to me that in order to improve as a monk I not only need to know all the monk skills, or even all the skills in the game, I need to be able to use them correctly. This feat is obviously easier said than done, I'm a good player, true, but I can't just pick up a character and play any build.

Since I can play many characters effectively, I decided to start with a profession that I never thought I'd be able to play. Yes, you guessed it, the Mesmer. The reason I decided to try Mesmer is not because I know there's a buff coming up for them, in fact that had the opposite effect on me until Dave pointed out that I didn't have to play the buffed skills, and would be better at it than all of those sheep who made Mesmers just after the buff. The reason I decided to play my Mesmer, is in fact, that I need to learn to interrupt. I'm pretty rubbish at it, especially under pressure, but I guess it takes practice. Being a Mesmer never came naturally to me, being a Necro did, and the Monk even more so, so developing this character will be hard, and will take effort, but in time I'll get there.

But anyway, Guild Wars out of the way.

Over the past few days I've had bad dreams (as I always do during times of stress), and yesterday I was also running a slight fever (see the connections to the title?) and this can only have made my dreams worse. Indeed the latest one involved being confronted on dark streets by people with nasty looks on their faces and an atmosphere akin to Bio Shock. Then, after finding a safe place to rest, having a mad man with pills that could turn him into a Tyrannosaurus Rex turn up and try to eat me. I'm not scared of death, and never had been, but the bad part of the dream was that one of my friends chose to also take some pills and fight for me. Valiant though this act was, the pills had a slightly different effect on him, and turned him into a very small (in comparison anyway) dinosaur.

It was a weird dream, to say the least, but as if that wasn't enough, it also hindered the sleep I needed to get better. And so, I awoke this morning, knowing I had a lot of work to do, but still with the headache I went to bed with last night. My temperature may be gone, but the dreams still rattle through my mind. It reminds me somewhat of the short story I wrote a couple of years ago called Nine Dreams. Not that I would dream of killing myself at the end of the story, but I feel despair come over me, and would prefer not to fall asleep again for fear of more bad dreams, and a spiraling down of my condition.

Of course, I know very well that I will have to go to bed tonight, and that I'll be absolutely shattered with so many nights of disturbed sleep. But with my mind in such a battered condition, I'm not sure sleeping is really a good idea. Dreams of my friends dying because of me, and those feelings of loss are not what I need right now; not with the looming deadlines overshadowing everything like a volcanic demon.

To try and help this situation I've written a poem (this doesn't happen very often, because I'm not really a poet) and I thought I'd share it with you:


The Torrent of Bad Dreams
The moon bow and arrow hiding behind the clouds.
If you don't watch closely the temptress of night will pierce your heart.
Be careful of her indigo fingers,
With one touch they will darken your dreams.
The cold wind will keep you refreshed,
But if he is not there to help you you will boil.
Nightmares of bizarre animals,
Malicious teeth to rip and shred your ripe young heart.
The vampires and werewolves of the dark,
No stars will help you this night,
your eyes see no twinkles of brightness,
Only the jaws,
Salivating,
Mid-growl with no high pitched whines of the hurt.
They will not release you until past dawn.
You can wriggle all you want, baby rabbit,
Neither your mother, nor your lover can help you here.
There is no one to save you but yourself.
Damsel in distress?
Ha! there are no princes in these dreams
And you are unable to help yourself.
Caught in the flames,
Forming bonds around your wrists.
There is no escape without the light of day
And that is a long time away.
Bells chime in forgotten towers,
Cracked and skull splitting.
You want to end it?
Go ahead, try all you want.
What? You're trapped?
We did tell you.
Now don't try to fight your way out,
We'll get the pliers.


I suppose I should get on with the work now, especially since there'll be no hope of getting any done as soon as Hayley gets up.

Another post tomorrow no doubt.

The Crane Dance

One final comment: The link I've just posted is a piece of music that could represent how I'm feeling at the moment.