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Post by Desmond Warren on Jun 17, 2015 8:03:57 GMT
"No. Something seeking me."
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Post by Grace Cantor on Jun 17, 2015 8:04:09 GMT
"And this something... it pulled you down?"
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Post by Desmond Warren on Jun 17, 2015 8:04:20 GMT
"..."
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Post by Grace Cantor on Jun 17, 2015 8:04:39 GMT
"Desmond? Are you alright?"
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Post by Desmond Warren on Jun 17, 2015 8:04:50 GMT
"..."
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Post by Grace Cantor on Jun 17, 2015 8:05:26 GMT
"you're choking. Try to breathe easier. Let me help... there, I'll wipe that up... Good boy. Now... go on, you were in the lake."
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Post by Desmond Warren on Jun 17, 2015 8:06:00 GMT
"Can't breathe. Couldn't breathe... it's so cold, no air. Water in my nose."
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Post by Grace Cantor on Jun 17, 2015 8:06:32 GMT
"You were distressed, driven. And dying. No wonder you dream night after night about it. Lost and alone with no escape."
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Post by Desmond Warren on Jun 17, 2015 8:09:19 GMT
"I wasn't alone. Not alone. There was someone there with me. His voice..."
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Post by Grace Cantor on Jun 17, 2015 8:12:14 GMT
"Under the water? There was nobody there, Desmond. You were alone and dying. The mind, especially the overwrought mind, finds ways of distracting itself. When you imagined -"
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Post by Desmond Warren on Jun 17, 2015 8:12:26 GMT
"It was real!"
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Post by Grace Cantor on Jun 17, 2015 8:13:35 GMT
"It was real to you. I accept that it was real to you. But you've dreamed about it so often you've made it more real. Night by night your imagination has strengthened that fantasy, made it solid. When you are dreaming your imagination is the world you live in. The masks are real, the fantasies are real."
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Post by Desmond Warren on Jun 17, 2015 8:13:47 GMT
"But I remember-"
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Post by Grace Cantor on Jun 17, 2015 8:16:06 GMT
"Your memory of the dream is real. The dream itself is not. The bargain you made is not."
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Post by Desmond Warren on Jun 17, 2015 8:16:31 GMT
"It is to me"
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