/lit/ - Literature

>>11681236
>not realizing what power is

A dream about persons you knew years ago who have since become criminals. A kind of squalid that is equally sinister and tragic. The panic and sorrow balance each other out and I stay for a while. Color palettes evocative of excrement. Through holes in the walls I see parts of comatose bodies rape. Elongated and tilted rooms. Trash strewn as if brought by a river. Despair at the thought of what was done in there. They appear, yellow, smiling. They barely see me, or anything else. I run down the apartment building stairs covered in decomposing mattresses.