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While looking through all these notebooks I start to see that the chapters get longer and longer.
When I first started writing down my dreams, my memory wasn't that great, so I couldn't
remember many details which resulted in a short paraphrasing of the dream. As my memory
improved, the chapters got longer and more detailed. As they got more detailed, the more of a story
you could find in them.

Chapter 38:
30 PIECES OF GOLD

A long time ago, someone had a nightmare. Imagine a dark basement where the only light that is
visible is the light that is coming in from the top of the stairs because that door up there is cracked
open. Now imagine the who are two people, one man standing in front of another man who is tied
to a chair. The standing man knows there is a man sitting before him, but the sitting man has no
idea there is a man standing before him.

Not until the standing man pulls on a piece of string that causes a light bulb to turn on. The sitting
man's eyes begin to hurt as they adjust to the light, but they hurt even more when he finally sees the
standing man before him who intends to do him harm.

I'm standing there, watching this man as his nightmares come true. In some kind of unexplainable
narcissistic view I am looking at myself, seeing only a man who has matured into a being capable
of controlling his compulsions. A man who once could not control his obsessions but now has the
confidence to do so. A man who once could not understand why he was the way he was, but has
now accepted that he was meant to be this way.

I take a dull pocketknife out of the sitting man's pocket, and as his eyes widen and his attempts to
yell fail, I begin to hack away at the top of his nose and make my way down. These things use to
terrify me, but I have gone through a sort of therapy that allows me to control my fear.

Sometimes I wonder if anything will ever go wrong. Maybe someone will get the edge on me
before I get it on them, maybe someone will find out what I do, maybe a law enforcement agent
will catch me. The thing is I only wonder, I never fear these things actually happening. I know that
since I have chosen to commit these murders in a state that enforces the death penalty, if I ever do
get caught I'll be killed myself instead of having to live the rest of my life in a small cage. If you
ask me, I believe there are a lot of people who would much rather die than serve a life-sentence.

Now imagine a bright basement where the door at the top of the stairs is now shut so that no light is
coming in. The who is a man who has been murdered and left to rot. On the cold floor beside him
are two ears, two eyes, two lips, a nose and some hair. The appearance of the person's head is only
something you can imagine.

Now going through these notebooks under the same category as the one with a serial killer, I find a
few dreams with a detective who is searching for a serial killer with the same modus operandi. The
same M.O., the same mode of operating. As I read and read I find that at the end of the serial killer
and the detective's speechless discourse, the detective catches him and the serial killer is put to
death. The last words of the serial killer are "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they