last night, terrible dream that I was pinned to the bed dripping with sweat. In the dream I watched a movie (and perhaps come up with this trick has saved me from my brain Lovecraftian horror in which I could pounce on awakening), I watched a short film in which people were deleted for no apparent reason by a sadistic maniac. Everything went along with unprecedented violence to the final scene, in which a family tries to escape by car, but a freak accident caused by a chain to prevent their escape. In the last frame I could see blood pouring copious sketches of murals on the sides of the road, and cars and trucks on fire, while the end credits began to scroll. The assembly, the prospect of filming, the pace was perfect, and I from time to time I become a spectator character. For example, for a moment I found myself in a large garage with small white bats hanging from the ceiling. However, I am grateful to my mind for having avoided the protagonist and me relegated to the role of spectator. E I just put up on the Sonic's Rendezvous Band, which lately I love them.
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