Recurring dream.

There is a building in what appears to be an industrial complex. Inside is darkness and shreds of moonlight through clouded windows. The carpet is damp, one can hear it as one walks upon it. The far wall to the left moves in the darkness, forms swirling on it, on it, through it. the forms mewl like strung kittens. There is a hallway adjacent to this wall. In the middle is an upside-down bicycle with one wheel turning lazily. As one makes one's way down the hallway, the bicycle moves farther away, until it too is obscured in darkness. But the soft squealing of that lone tire pervades. On either side of the hallway are a myriad of doors. Each door is closed, and the doors themselves are damp and swolen. Bruised. Inside is the sound of muffled violins and flutes; classical music. There is a door at the end of the hall, straight forward to where one stands. This door is ajar, and there is the sound ofrunning water coming from within. It is obvious as one moves closer that the dampness in the carpet comes from this room. Opening the door, is revealed a bathroom. A clouded, broken mirror over a defunct stand-alone sink.. To the left is an old-fashioned bathtub, on feet. It was not water. Blood flows forth from the bathtub, as it is overflowing from the immensity of it. And inside the bathtub sits a grinning man with his eyes torn out. I know he had been driven to madness by what was held inside these other rooms, so he torn out his own eyes and severed his own arteries in hopes the visions will leave him.

This, and the dream of crows, haunt me. I am certain it means something, and yet I could not guess.