Of Fever Dreams and Screaming Nightmares

I have dragged myself out of the cocoon that was my bed sheets. My mind is changing from dreams I cannot stop. I looked into the skies of my Arabian Knights and found cruel stars that make my head swim now as I write this. Lastnight was once again inspirational madness in dreamscape.

My mind shields me from some of the details but it’s the bulls that stand out. The red bulls that burned and bellowed their rage as they tore after me with massive bodies larger than any bull should be known. I had seen but one and then a call went out there were five. They charged and I managed to only distract one as the rest bore down on some temples of long forgotten entities.

I had a sledgehammer handy and felled the beast with the moon logic of dreams. The cold metal head brought the fiery bovine low as it met the heavy horned one. I can’t remember much else other than the reason why the bulls had shown up. There had been balance between a frightful primal being and the peaceful one of civilization. The one of peace fell and the one of malice and rage was left alone unchecked in the world.

This is all I can come back with. My mind is still recovering and the dry coughing shakes me. Thick sputum the color of pale amber resists my efforts to to dredge it from my lungs and reclaim my body. This madness may be here for a little while longer. I don’t know if this is a blessing or a curse.