Voyages of a Skywalker

There is a storm coming. Flooding is being considered a very realistic danger. I am preparing my home for the impact. It is a very cloudy, gray day outside. i am trying to lure all of the (stray?) dogs into my home. There is a man in uniform here momentarily. He is helping me, prepare of maybe just nudging me to hurry the preparations before the storm sets in good. I think he is a fireman. As he is leaving I go through the double garage doors to the stairs that lead to my home. I turn back and request that he shut the garage doors on his way out.

"There is a button near the top of the door inside. You can push it and still make it through the door in time."

I am starting to panic and become paranoid now. I'm worried that he won't close the door properly and wondering if I'll have enough time to do it myself.

Inside and out we prepare. Mom is here as well as Suzette. At least two times I notice a cigarette on the floor and consider smoking it. A single one. We stand at the side of the house where a chorus of electronic, chords and outlets are strewn about, plugged into the house. We are discussing weather or not to take them in the house. Which seems silly to me.

Every time I go into my house or some aspect of my house, I am put through this complicated entry process involving a computer with code, password, algorithm etc. I get confused every time I try and remember the entry yet I know that I know it. The entry is like an elevator with a lot of yellow, metal and glass.
---------------------------------------------
I am going down a familiar hallway in a familiar place.
Very cave like with stone.
Like the inside of a castle on Mario Land.
I go to take an elevator contraption to another area but jump on after it starts back down.
Now I am on the top of the elevator/lift contraption.
I remember thinking that it's okay if I die because I have an infinite number of lives here.
And as I descend with the lift, I begin to wonder if it will hurt.
Just as I'm starting to worry, we take a sharp stop then turn.
The lift is now traveling horizontally.
The walls of the shoot are like mining tunnels.
All packed dirt, stone and wooden beam.
I see that up ahead I'm going to run into something that will surely mangle and kill me.

"But it's okay," I think to myself, "because I have more lives. But will it hurt?"

I begin to feel the pressure of this vague obstacle coming down upon me, squeezing the life from me. No pain.

I'm in a house with my sister and we are almost hiding out. I can feel that there are very few life forces around. Maybe a few other families on a big, sandy colored suburban block of Las Vegas style, upper-middles class houses. There is a war/fight going on in the sky. It is night time. Out of the large living room windows I can see formations of flying fighter crafts deploying to some unknown mission. Are they on our side? I don't think so. I know it's not safe here and at any moment we could be attacked. It seems my sister is unaware of this or doing very well do ignore the threat. A man knocks on my door. He is a shorter brown man with black hair and a moustach. I think he's Indian. I immediatly and suspicious of him, and he invites me to a meetup a short distane from here at an abandoned Taco Bell. Here we will learn about the threat and current conditions. I don't believe him. He leaves and a short time later, his wife knocks on my door. She is brown like him and she has some thawed out bags of meat to give me; tilapia, shrimp and something else. I take them graciously even though I don't eat meat. I understand that food is sparse. She asks me how I am and I feel I must mention the meeting with her husband. She acts as though she doesn't know what I'm talking about but I can tell she does. I can see her husband watching us behind her through the door.

Dad and I are talking and at the foot of his bed is a huge scorpion. I fear it but he is just curious.



FRAGMENT:
I am in the school, at the end of the long hallway. I reach down and when my finger comes back there is blood on it.

A dormitory and some tarot cards. Anxiety is what I feel. It is dark, not night, but hazy and dull and dim. Maya is near/here. A large box filled with alcoholic bottles. Empty maybe. Trouble. In the end I am not fearful. I'm going on some sort of journey. Someone asks me if/to write goodbyes. A bicycle is lying down and I write my goodbyes. I think I write down names around the bicycle in chalk. I think Rick S is here, talking to me. I write to my mom; I love you more than the moon and the stars.