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I Dream of Pasta: He Calls Himself Father



There is a greater evil haunts the future to bathe the world in fire and marinate it with the smell of death. This is the twisted plan of a person I once knew. He takes away the life of you, until one day you don’t wake up. I plague you with a decision, my dearest friends. To find out what this means for your sake is potential suicide. Continue your journey through the hazy past of a teenager for your sake is very dangerous, and I hope by finding this, that the material read does not act as a beacon. God has not abandoned us, but for one thing is that entropy takes strike for decisions, and god has demons put in place for every evildoer, no exceptions.

It started on a night where dreams became more evident to me as time passed. Some things would come to me as inspiration, when others didn’t. I took this information for the day, and stored it mentally in the subconscious zone of sleep. I wanted to try to remember my dreams, and the essential part of this was by using a dream journal. This was in order to perform a ritual called “lucid dreaming”. Lucid dreaming is a way to control your dream’s settings, objects and plot. You can have a little story go on in your head, the way you want it.

I had dreamt of a forest, filled with past and present horrors that I could easily recognize, just to get over them. As I took steps closer to the end of the lines of gruesome and subconscious figures that I believed, “It couldn’t have been anything else.” This of course was my first mistake. However, this was not a voluntary dream, and it did not consist of my ideal dreamscape, so I was sucked into another’s world. The last thing at the end was my future horror, I did not know what it was, but it was known subconsciously by my means. I wasn’t afraid of anything irrational at the time, so I continued on just to know. This is a mistake taken by ignorant minds continuously, also a leading cause for the mentally ill.

I had reached the end, and it turned around, obviously, as a lot of people say, the mind cannot make up an image of a person without viewing it, so something unexpected happened. I had remembered that I had seen it, but not what it was. I had woken up, remembering the previous scene, but now in a different setting. An empty white area littered with the bodies of the dead, circling the bloody center with the same thing smack in the middle, reaching out to another carcass, feeding on it.

I once again, approached the primate-like beast, uncontrollably. It turned around, and with a low-pitch voice, it rumbled “Welcome, prey.” And I woke up, now in the urban area, I got up on the sidewalk, and just walked like nothing happened, and I reached a building, in which I was drawn to by a certain sense of melancholy. A depression put in place by nostalgia took over me, and I felt sad, I walked in to see my mother lying on the ground, with a piece of glass, impaling her frame. And in the corner of the room, was the pale white creature, which I vaguely remembered from the whole expedition through my subconscious. I remembered this scene all too well; when my mother died. A sense of rage overcame me, and I approached the monster, but I doubled over, and once again, fell asleep.

I woke in the forest, in which the mental journey began, meeting face to face with the demon. He whispered in my ear, the infamous phrase “I am fear.” My vision became impaired, as I woke up back in the white room, with the carcasses. 

Meeting face to face with him once again “I am the soul eater.” He rasped, with a voice like thunder, I blurred out again. Waking up to meet face to face, one last time “I am the reaper.” And I truthfully awoke in my bed. I sprawled up, and looked up at the fan. I shifted my body up against the wall, and sat up. Looking at the foot of my bed, and I froze. I was staring directly at this demon. He opened conversation with me of who he was, but that I was soon to forget his sight, like a dream, unaccounted for, but you remember there were seconds that you left empty in your head.

He called himself “God”. He called himself “Father”. He called himself “Jesus”. I called him Satan. But listen here; God doesn’t exist. There is only a Hell after what you’ve gone through. He is not Satan, he is not Jesus, and he is not God. He is Father. Entropy is the word, things don’t get cleaned up by themselves; you have to clean them up. The natural order of things is chaos; we are sinful, for only a Hell exists.

I tell you to be wary of the scars and horns on a man, the features of father are very similar. He sees through the cuts on his face, his possession is through the cuts. He is real; he finds those who know him. This is the very reason I tell you, do not search for such a demon. Hell is very close to earth, so I suggest you don’t kill yourself by searching. He doesn’t like memory, so I beg of you, forget all of this, and burn this not in a fire. Do not remember Father, for there is no way to kill a part of you without killing yourself. And that’s why I wrote this, I will not suffer in silence any more, until I don't wake up. Goodbye.

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