It had been eleven days from the morning that had left this place in horror, and as I am writing this — this would actually be the first time that I had managed to get a descent rest in the two weeks. My emotional health is sometimes in question when I had asked if some of my correspondents were anywhere near there or if they were safe which brings me to the recent dreams which were there as I am writing. It would be in the thoughts which would be in the tormenting of that I would never know of what happened to the one but when I am writing to address the circles which I am part of in question of which anyone in there wasn’t in the twin towers or on the flights. More than likely they were not on the flights but doing the head count to find out which are safe or trying to be pulled out because they are entombed. This would take me to the dream which I would begin to write as it comes to my mind — it would be while I was walking among the streets of New York, that it was in 1993 when I been in the very area that was bombed before it happened. It was months before even the first bombing happened. The background which would later become the dream was when I was sixteen — I was covered in soot but not knowing from where. It was the combination of blood and soot that covered me though the building was not crumbling — I could hear the screams of those who were falling from the sky. The screams of multiples of a thousand, that it would be in the eyes of those would only not even the words of faith would even allow the nightmares to occur — the blasphemy which is there in the eyes, that when the building was still standing one could feel the flames on the flesh; the soot, fire and blood combined with the screams that are silent. Blacker eyes which are looking on — the sullen emotions which are there and the unspoken prayers are heard among them. In the prayers and screams that are written; the gathering thoughts which are there in the unseen crumbling. From this would come the insomnia of weeks to come — knowing that when one would become scared to sleep because the possible thoughts of the nightmares would begin again. Infinity of the thoughts which would come and gone even in the eyes of millions when the towers appear as the tarot card and the building of five falls without the warnings. From this that I would hear the screams that were never heard and the horrors of the crumbling would be in the mind after the times would fall — the questions after the sun had died. That when it would soon will die; the nightmares that would remain as I stand at the rubble crumbling but yet I don’t see the crumbling. Which it would remain without being said — that when one could hear the thousand screams; that no one can never understand and imagine the horrors which would become before them. After time one could hear the crackling thunder in the broad daylight but no flames in sight; but one knew that the deafening sound of the shattering glass. From this would be gathering as the nightmares crawl — from it would be the unseen raining of soot and blood combined with shards of black glass and bone though this would never been seen. That this would be in the dream that I had in 1993; that it would still not happen for another eight years; eight years later. That it would be in this which I am writing the thoughts that would be there in the mind would reflect in the mirrors after the ghosts of war. It would be in the sleep which I would try to attain but the dreams about the unseen crumbling would not let me awaken from the dream which is in the sleep playing and replaying in my mind. From this would be in the gathering horror that would be after the years had past when two towers are totally gone as an ancient ruin, a relic from modern history and a building of five are trashed. From this would be the screams of those falling out of the buildings but I would not see anything; though one could hear them — the silent screams. It would be when I would try to fall asleep I would feel the flames — the traumatizing thoughts bringing one to tears of horror of what would be known in the mind that the unseen crumbling would be seen on the screen flickering as it would appear so un-mother-fucking-real. Horror drawn to the point of tears; which would be in the mind of the thoughts drawn into the mind as the fears from the events from the past two weeks drawn their dark picture in the back of ones troubled already mentally unstable mind. In the emotional thoughts which would be there — the slow crumbling which would be in the emotional crumbling. Tormenting thoughts would gather — waiting for that would never end. In the written questions which are without single questions — the god-damning thoughts which would be as they transcribe in form of a journal that is seen in the unseen crumbling. In the fears that are written — it would only be in the flooding nightmares that would be still to come. It would be in the very worry that I am writing about the woman I dearly love who is preparing to go into basic and the nightmares which would come from that would reflect all that is happening. But that is something I very much think about because the dreams include when I hear the silent screams — I would be receiving a phone call that every person who has a loved one in the military dreads. That call saying that they would never be coming home because they have to be buried. It would be more concern to be in the mind invoking insomnia; that what would be in the nightmares are quite accurate. From this would be inside the thoughts of the unseen crumbling. Which it would be in the written the thoughts and nightmares invoked from the nightmares after the crumbling of the twin towers and the untimely death of many which it wasn’t their time. As much she tell me not to worry — I cannot help but worry. It is that kind of worry a husband has for a wife when she is in the hospital for a serious accident or worst; when the phone call knowing that would be when something is horrifically wrong. That it would be in the thoughts which would be as one would be victim of biological and chemical weapons after the nightmares following the unseen crumbling. Which it would be as I am writing this journal — the thoughts in the mind are what torment the thoughts and the horrors in between.
Yeah, Mitzi is right, this one is a real mind blowing sequence of thoughts; loved the way you worked the precognition into it. I believe it that. Great write! RD
