He usually remembered his dreams. Not this time, though. He felt as if he had slept for many, many days, and yet, he couldn’t remember a single thing his subconsciousness had produced over that time. Strange.
Oh, wait! There was this thing... People were chasing him around the village with pitchforks, they were angry, he was running away, but he couldn’t run, classic dream problems!, they caught him, everything went even more blurry... Nah, whatever, just another dream.
This ceiling looks strange, doesn’t it?, he realised. Where the fuck am I?
Obejrzałem wreszcie “Spotlight”. A potem po raz pierwszy w życiu zdarzyło mi się złapać pierwszą lepszą rzecz, która była pod ręką, i z wkurwu cisnąć nią o podłogę. No i oczywiście poryczałem się z bezsilności.
Today I realised how two completelly opposite techniques can be used together to manipulate people in a really consistent way. That’s what the Catholic Church (and religions in general) do: they make complex issues look simple, but they digress for ages about really simple stuff – overall turning the reality upside-down.