Mr. Macmillan #4

     “Let me tell you something”, Mr. Macmillan stated firmly “I am not allowing myself to fall into a sleep beyond my control, yet I allow myself to ascend above myself drifting apart from within my mind”.  Mr. Macmillan was more than your average ontologist that one might be familiar with, he was the original student of self and being.  Mr. Macmillan was speaking at the vastness of an undefined white expanse with no knowledge of an entity that would listen to him.  There was a light sound surrounding him that resembled a slight breeze that would rustle through the branches of a forest of pines serving as the only response to his statement.  Mr. Macmillan believed that he was truly in control of his own faculties, however this would prove to be no more than another delusion of the place he had entered.  It frustrated him that the only response to his comment was that of an unknown origin.  He continued to assess his surroundings begging for something to prove itself to him, and a flavor made its way to his mouth ascorbic acid was the element he noticed, something of quite an acidic nature he believed. “When life gives you lemons, just add water and sugar is what I always say.”  Mr. Macmillan once again attempting to retain a sense of accompaniment.  “I was never sleepy, I am much more an aware man than that, I am not incapable of recognizing what you are doing to me.”  A brilliant thought instantly struck him as if to knock him out of his previous dialogues, the realization was in what he had just said, by saying the word “you.”  The ability to recognize the boundaries of his current setting became very present.  He was in a room, white noise was indeed what he was hearing, there was still no determinable source for the light that made this room so blatantly white, but he knew now that he was indeed in a room. Laying on what gravity determined to be the ground was a document that would later to be determined as a contract.  The contract was outdated so far as he could estimate, including language that was barely intelligible.
-DR JUMP

Mr. Macmillan #3

      While Mr. Macmillan was sleeping he often found himself imagining to be an eagle.  Although the idea of imagining oneself as a creature is not in and of itself odd it was the detail of which his dreams always contained that was remarkable.  Mr. Macmillan would soon discover in and outside of sleep that he was a very special individual.  In the air he soared higher above the clouds than any other creature, including those of his kind, the flutter of his wings for instance was very powerful undulating the sky itself.  He reflected on where it was he was leaving from and going to and learned that he was on the lam from a very dark conniving creature, and seeking out solace in the cherubim and seraphim above.  Mr. Macmillan was not sure why he led such a surreptitious life, nor why his own life had been shrouded from his awareness.  Some details would insinuate that Mr. Macmillan had subconsciously done these things in order to protect himself, the truth was nonetheless still hidden.  In order to further decipher the meaning of his dream Mr. Macmillan decided to put the kibosh on the current first person perspective of the flying creature, while allowing it to still happen for the purpose of analysis.  As he stepped outside of himself he was required to capitulate his majestic role, and began to see the bird as if it were on a movie screen, but yet much more life-like and realistic.  He discovered that his own heart very much associated with the bird even from this new perspective, and he couldn’t understand why his own complexion was so foreign.  Mr. Macmillan was a tall man, not so tall that he was a social anomaly but rather a height of authority.  He did not have the feathers that he often dreamt of having but rather a bold tan appearance that spoke both to a non-explicit origin and comfortable familiarity to people of all kinds.  He was often annoyed at the blithering comments made of those around himself, however he was a very empathic and caring person.  Mr. Macmillan also had a strange mark on his throat as if to suggest that he had at one time or another gone through a reconstructive enhancement of the larynx. All details of which, contained the likelihood of confounding any conclusions one would make of the man.  He was indeed convincing himself as he watched himself as a bird that life really should be more like this, that our relationship with the world around us should be just what he saw, impacting.  He saw the influence of the waves created by the force of his wings, and it amazed him.  As he thought he heard his own words as if they were being spoken to him “such fascinating things could not just be fantasy, there has to be some meaning behind it all, what use would it be otherwise.”
      Once again Mr. Macmillan drifted off into an even deeper sleep.
-DR JUMP

Mr. Macmillan #2

In agony that he could not decipher the present situation, Mr. Macmillan took a double-take of his surroundings.  He became frozen by the grandness of what he saw and in that instant as his eyes made motion upwards he found sight of the sky.  Somehow Mr. Macmillan had not noticed what surrounded him due to the soft reflective surfaces on both sides of the road in front of his alleged home. The road was merely a facade and somehow contained a content capable of suspending objects on and within it, but also had the appearance as one could fall right through it, somewhat transparent.  As he looked through it there was no apparent end downward, neither when he looked up could he find anything to understand where he was in relation to anything else, no bearings.  The oval shaped interactive display suddenly announced "5 minutes till lockdown, all who are outside will be inside."   Although startled by the message Mr. Macmillan found people around looking at him a special way as they drifted by him in some form of a hovering chair. They made these curious circle like gestures somehow giving him the feeling that there was something royal about himself.   For if there was anything Mr. Macmillan knows it would be that he had never had rule over any person, place or thing.  So it came as quite a shock that anyone would look at him with due respect, "sorry to inform you that I am not who you think I am, s..s..sir" he voiced to the interactive display, hesitant to speak to a machine with such a human term.  As he voiced his opinion on the matter the interactive display began to emit some form of communication Mr. Macmillan was not familiar with but yet was supremely comforted by.  Unfortunately the information was proceeding at a speed much to quick for Mr. Macmillan to track.  He could sense an overall feeling of peace and protection and began to sink inside of his alleged home, not through a door, but perhaps through the substance that made up it's walls.  Once again Mr. Macmillan fell into a deep deep sleep.
-DR JUMP

Mr. Macmillan

… The man heard the smooth unfamiliar sound of an engine, it was neither far nor distant.  Opening his eyes he found himself curiously placed upon a narrow bridge not wide enough for any car to drive over and not exactly a pedestrian bridge.  As he continued to observe his surroundings an automated monitor flew over head displaying warning messages to exit the bridge immediately for the law and his own safety.  The man had been asleep it had become apparent and was dreaming of the future as he imagined it.  In his dream he stated “what better is there that we should hope for, for what can tomorrow bring that we have not already imagined?” That is precisely when he woke up.  To answer the question something like the combination of Rip Van Winkle and The Twilight Zone had come.  The man became aware that he was perhaps the master of this land, if he was in fact just dreaming.  He continued conjecturing “I shall become a legend, I will do tremendous things”.  So he stated “I desire a hovering golden transport” and to his amazement the monitor responded to him “what size?”, “make it the largest one you have, and it better be well equipped.”  Within seconds a large floating golden chariot swept him off his feet, and rushed him to a towering building with no windows.  The chariot spoke to him “your home sir”, the man replied “no, no, this is not my home”, but before he finished the chariot had left him.  There was an interactive display at the front door repeating the line “I’m here to help, what is it you need”, the man said to the display “It is time for me to wake, I would like to go home, wake me up.”  The display promptly replied “You are awake, you are home Mr. Macmillan.”  Mr. Macmillan began to remember two realities, that he had memories both of that name, but also of a place much different than his present placement.  “Is this real, is this what has happened, how could I be me now and yet things be so different so foreign.”  He had come to the odd conclusion that it would be a hard journey to discovering his true identity, place, and future.
-DR JUMP