cropped-desk.jpgThere is something of about reality, when you sleep at night.

The reality of one’s dreams look real, as you fall into the deep sleep state of the Twilight Zone.

It almost makes the late Gene Rodenberry look like the master of suspense, even though the king of suspense was once held by the late Alfred Hitchcock, who made zealions at the art of suspense with the motions pictures he produced and realeased through Hollywood during his time on Earth.

Hitchcock was the master, King and Wes Craven were the followers.

Suspense is not the defiance of horror as Stephen King would write with his masterful creations in the stories he writes, produce as horror novelist.

But,  neither of my dreams have, nor have they been the Master’s of suspense, somehow it feels that way. Maybe? Just maybe, because the approaching thought of Holloween seems to be a few short weeks away and just around the corner next month.

I’m completely immersed in the thought of doing just that – writing the story, about the dream.

Dreamscape has kept me in the pure thought of telling a story, perhaps not only the short version of the story itself – but, to tell the story through short films?

I’m not a master of the genre, but a fan,  a writer, blogger, a dipsy frog looking for answers of how the dream came to my mindset and more?

This would make short filmmaker Ryan Connley of YouTube fame at Film Riot, look like the next Wes Craven or Stephen King wannabe – close, but, not that close,  but close. Well,  almost close enough to say.

Connley is an up and coming short filmmaker and his work seems to improve with each short film he releases through his company.

With no cast and crew in insight on my end of the chain, the reality of the dream and the story to be told is beyond the art of fact, fiction nor truth, “it’s somewhere in between there,” I say to myself during my course of thought.

As, I regain the thought of suspense through the art of dreamscape, as I go into the state of deep sleep the story is still being told and written on another plane of thought somewhere above Cloud Nine in the world of Dreamscape.

Belief is the beast of one’s dreams, between reality, fact and fiction – its hard to dimiss, it was only a dream, a mindset of ones subconscious of deep sleep.

At least,  E. T., hasnt told me to call home yet, which is good – it would be a guilt trip if Charlie Brown and Snoopy found the great answers to the “Great Pumpkin Patch,” Linus has been blabbing about for years.

“You build it, they will come,” as they say in the movie, “The Field of Dreams,” with Kevin Costner as he stands amid a corn field in his characters farm, as the ghosts of baseball’s past says to his character Ray.

Dreams are the same way in my own mind. Perhaps, that’s probably, why Fall is upon us?

At least, it wasn’t a salty “Payday” candy bar, but a damn Cuban cigar that smells like the pure truth of the Indian Stories once told by an Indian Reservation tribunal Indian Chief during my childhood.

“Phooey..!,” is my answer.

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