Photo by Flagstaffotos

Header photo by Flagstaffotos under Creative Commons 3.0.

Last night I dreamt of an uprising and a crackdown taking place as a desperate struggle from the start. It never had a justifiable reason, but then again, is any war justified?

To my left was a two-storey motel. Ahead of me was a road leading into the darkness as people appeared and disappeared. The “other side” wasn’t clearly defined. I saw people I used to know with them. They were the ones initiating the crackdown. Civilians were taking part too, on both sides. Nobody appeared to understand what this was really about, like me; the “official” reason the other side gave for their actions was to crack down on people in ownership of a specific item. I don’t remember what that was, but I believe it was something that could have been used as a weapon. They didn’t see the hypocrisy in this, but I did. I doubt they cared – probably only wanted a reason to attack people in an official capacity, if there was any.

I, of course, was on another undefined faction. I didn’t know who we were, what we were doing or why we were here. For lack of a better response I stood there in confusion while I watched people I knew kill and I watched people I knew die on both sides. Fires broke out all around me and all I could do was stand there while people died. We were supposed to be the uprising. But we were losing.

I was eventually targeted and I ran until I lost him in a museum. The war was happening here too; I watched it transform from an archive of past memories to a reminder of the present’s destruction. I reverted back to a state of confusion. I didn’t know what I was fighting for. In retrospect. I should have done more to prevent what I saw.

The war was still going on as far as I remember. It doesn’t matter now. They’re all gone.

Also, this won’t be getting its own Audio post. It feels like I’d be trivialising the subject matter. (Maybe I’m not, but I’d rather play it on the safe side.)


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