The Banalities of Subconscious Reality (Doot)

"Sweet berries ready for two ghosts are no different than you.
Ghosts are now waiting for you."

   He was drowning in an infinitely deep pit of crushing sadness, tonight.

"Sweet berries ready for two ghosts are no different than you.
Ghosts are now waiting for you.
Are you..."

   In the center of a white backdrop, his mother looked outward at him and a stream of purple tears ran down her torquose face--but you can't dream in colour, can you?--and the grey shades of her flesh wrinkled and crinkled before his mind's very eye. She transformed into a pile of dust that formed into a desert which melted into an ocean and he saw a single dinghy bobbing on the waves, a lost and sobbing little girl--mommy?--rode inside clinging, sobbing, to the lifeless body of an unidentifiable man.

"Do we! Do we know, when we fly?
When we, when we go
Do we die?"

   A spider crept across Africa and ate the continent of Europe, then a face appeared in the centre of the arachnid's abdomen--The President?--and screamed silently, as hosts of maggots poured forth from his mouth and formed a puddle of strikingly red blood from which the figure of a different little girl rose, bloodstained, with red hair, and mouthed words, but no sound was made; the soundless landscape wrapped into itself and a cascade of lights exploded, streamers and ribbons of various hues dancing and reforming into shapes and forms--where am I?--which became the backyard of his old house.

"Sweet berries ready for two ghosts are no different than you.
Ghosts are now waiting for you.
Are you...
Sweet berries ready for two ghosts are no different than you.
Ghosts are now waiting for you.
Are you..."

   A teenage girl on a swing that was not being held up by any tree branch or anything he could see giggled and kicked the swing back, spraying dirt all over him and rapidly zooming toward him, the metal swing plunging into his torso--Augh!--and sending him sprawling against the wooden fence at his back. She fly high overhead and let go of the chains of the swing, releasing and freefalling into the empty, orange sky, where she transformed into a blue jay and was eaten by an aged, grey cat that smirked as his face transformed into the girl's--What?--which opened and vomitted up a human heart.

"Do we! Do we know, when we fly?
When we, when we go
Do we die?"

   Jerking himself up in bed, he awoke to the quiet peace of his bedroom, breathing heavily with a coat of sweat smeared across his forehead, as a solitary bird chirped outside his window between the song of crickets. " . . . Ugh, huh?" He wiped his face with his hands and sighed, then looked to his right and noticed the bleeding corpse of the teenage girl laying next to him in bed, and tried to scream, but his tongue crawled out of his mouth as a snake, which hissed and darted over the corpse and out of sight. He turned his body and went to plant his feet on the floor, but found nothing underneath and began plummetting toward a river of molten, greyscale lava, still trying his damnedest to shout for help.

"LALALALALALALALAALALALALALAALALALALA!"

   Eventually, the scene gave way to an empty, cold loneliness and the sound of sobbing.