lock raze a dream that lurched into a nightmare used to almost always end the same way. i'd take refuge in a room, knowing whoever or whatever i was running from was going to get inside no matter what i did. it was almost always the same room. a bathroom in a house i haven't seen the inside of in almost twenty years now. locking myself in wouldn't do any good. neither would leaning against the door with the full weight of my body after locking the door. i could only stand and watch with a growing sense of dread as the doorknob made its slow turn, indifferent to being locked, jarring myself awake a split second before the door could swing open. i almost wish i still had those dreams, if only to force myself to stick around and confront whatever's on the other side of the door. then i'd conjure some music on the dream soundtrack and ask it to dance. how often do you get to dance with your worst fear? 170625 what's it to you? who go blather from