i'm sorry for not updating for a long time.
it's been hard for everyone. i had a dream last night.

it was of all these farmers out in the american west. out in the praries, growing wheat or something, and it was spring, but they weren't planting their fields. they were standing out in the middle of those rural roads that go right to the horizon, and it was midday, and they were looking up at the sun shining through an all-black sky.

i wasn't a central part in this, i was an observer or something.

they were hoping they'd see something there. further instructions on what to do. i think they believed the world was to end that year - that's why they didn't bother dowing their seeds. and they weren't crazy or anything. they accepted the end times as a given, and weren't fighting the idea.

i thought i should look for the farmers wives, and they believed it too. they were on their porches, throwing the jarred jams and preserves into their gardens - beets and beans and tomatoes - with the glass shards like coins in the sun, and the juices trickling into the soil, which was all chalky and grey, and the juices were feeding the things sleeping inside it - worms and embryos of locusts.

i was thinking then it was about time, about 3 weeks had past, about time that they should get more information from the sky. then they did.
they were told the world is a place filled only with sorrow, and that people have no idea where it is we're destined for. Disaster is inevitable. whether it is by our own doing or as an act of God. that's why they shouldn't be afraid - because the end is going to happen np matter what.

this made the farmers feel better. they were also told that there was a gift awaiting them, and that shortly they'd be given a signal - and that they'd receive this gift.
this was really chilling. and the wind was so bleak and half-assed.

then i woke up for 5 minutes and got some water.

i went back to sleep and the farmers went out to the road, from the porches. they were on the road wearing their dungarees and looking at the sky and waiting to be told something more. i could tell they felt cheated, and i could tell they were confused and probably angry. then they heard a voice from just over a hill. it was a woman's voice and as i heard it i thought how visions are only supposed to come to people like joan of arc burning at the stake, assisted by angels, but instead this voice was like the o2 top up service woman i give my debit card number to.

anyway.

she said she had news that the farmers wouldn't like. she said that the farmers were unable to tell the difference between being awake and being asleep. she told them that they had lost their belief in the possibility of changing the world. they asked her what she meant by that, and she said that the farmers just assumed that the lives of their children or grandchildren would be identical to their own lives, that there wouldn't or couldn't be any difference.

they kind of had to choose between certainty and peace. i guess what was weird was that the farmers had no trouble with this. they said 'ok'. and then the voice told them this was foolish, and because of this there had to be a change of plans.
oh shit.

they were told that death without the possibility of changing the world was the same as a life that never was. the voice said that they'd soon hear words that would make them again believe in a future.
that was more comforting.

i woke up again. i looked around my room for some reason and then closed my eyes. oh! the women on the porches. suddenly they're far more beautiful than they were before. they're in white dressing gowns. there are flowers in vases on the porch railings and in their hair - daisies and lilies. i love lilies. these beautiful women are asking the voice what to do next.

they're told to believe that we're all sick in pur own way - and that life is work - and rewards often seem more accidental than based on merit. and they're told about the delay, and that they won't be receiving their gift - not that year - they have to make it through the winter first.
the voice stops there.
the men and women are frightened. it's too late to plant seeds. their stored foods have been destroyed. they know winter will soon arrive, and they don't know what to do.

i wake up again here, i'm sweating. so i take my jumper off.
i go back to sleep.

the farmers are back on the road again, back where the woman's voice told them they'd be forsaken. the road is dusty. rabbits out in the fields are scurrying into their holes. the birds have vanished. the farmers feel confounded. they've fallen to their knees and are praying for some sort of sign to tell them they haven't been abandoned by the voice.

they are getting their sign. but it's not what they'd hoped for. there's a string coming down to them from the sky.
actually it's more like a rope. and it's tied to something, just a few steps ahead of them on the road. the farmers are walking towards it.

a bone is on the end. it's one of those freakish bones - a collarbone, with a flat bit and a pointy part. there's another bone coming down from the sky on a rope - a pelvic bone. and now there are more strings - all of these...bones. it's so strange. the bones are clattering together, like windchimes.

i'm not scared. but the farmers are. they're backing away from the bones. they;ve had their message. they're completely forsaken, and they're in the wilderness now. they;re no longer humans, they're dolls or scarecrows or mannequins. their only salvation lies in placing their faith in the voice who's forsaken them.

i woke up soon after that.