Maybe it's Matt's fault.
(Well, you know, aside from the general clause 47 that says that everything is Matt's fault.)
This weekend, he made me a CD with a bunch of MP3s on it. I had asked him for the MP3s from a Bob Marley CD I'd lent him about six years ago or so because I lost my copy - I think it was in the Catbus when I wrecked it and I think it slid under the seat, so I didn't get it back when I went to the garage to collect my personal things out of what was once a perfectly good car and was now a pile of leaking scrap-metal.
Since there's a lot of room on a data CD, he added a bunch of other stuff, to see if I liked/wanted it.
He included a neat little song by the Pogues called The Turkish Song of the Damned:
I come old friend from Hell tonight
Across the rotting sea
Nor the nails of the cross
Nor the blood of Christ
Can bring you help this eve
The dead have come to claim a debt from thee
They stand outside your door
Four score and three
Did you keep a watch for the dead man's wind
Did you see the woman with the comb in her hand
Wailing away on the wall on the strand
As you danced to the Turkish song of the damned
You remember when the ship went down
You left me on the deck
The captain's corpse jumped up
And threw his arms around my neck
For all these years I've had him on my back
This debt cannot be paid with all your jack
And as I sit and talk to you I see your face go white
This shadow hanging over me
Is no trick of the light
The spectre on my back will soon be free
The dead have come to claim a debt from thee
I really like creepy ghost stories and songs. Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner, by Warren Zevon, Eye of the Zombie, by John Foggarty, Graveyard Waltz, by The Hooters and Dead Man's Party by Oingo Boingo are some of my favorite songs. So, this song got immediately added to my list of favorites (or as I described last night to Karen, my new favorite song)
So, after listening to Turkish Song of the Damned about twelve times yesterday, I think my dream might be Matt's fault.
I have this friend who may or may not be in Iraq. The last time I heard from him, he was going to have some leave in May and was going to stop by and visit if he could before getting shipped out to Korea. He did not stop by or call. He hasn't answered my emails recently. And with the shift of troops from Korea to Iraq... well, let's just say I'm really considering calling his parents to see if they know how he is.
I saw John walking through the endless maze of hallways.
"John, wait!" I yelled after him, but he kept walking. I chased him, running with great effort, as if the very air was trying to hold me back. (Of course, I often feel that way, not being a great runner or anything.)
The hall was getting darker. I had to stop and squint to make sure I was still behind him. He didn't pause. I clutched at the stitch in my side and followed.
Finally, he crossed into a room and turned, as if he heard my voice. I staggered up to the door.
"You can't go there," he said, blocking the door.
"What?"
"This room, it is not for you."
"John, what?"
He reached across the threshhold and took my hands in his. His hands were ice-cold and a bone-deep ache crept up my arms.
"The living can't go there." He leaned over and pressed frozen lips to my cheek. "I won't forget you."
He crossed all the way into the room and closed the door in my face. All my pounding at the door wouldn't open it again.
Posted by tisfan at July 28, 2004 09:27 AM::shivers::
Posted by: Gris on July 28, 2004 10:32 AMCreepy. The last time I had a dream like that, it was even too much for my subconscious to handle and it tossed in some ridiculous elements to let me know that the dream-events weren't actually happening. Still left me pretty badly dazed.
Posted by: Greg on July 29, 2004 08:04 PM