It's All Been Done Before, Part 1

The following story is taken directly from the journal of Mike Cook

The author of this story believes in freedom of press, that a person can write anything they want and not be incriminated for it. He also believes that a man's private life is his own, and as such, only the parts of the journal relevant to the story have been reprinted here with permission from Mr. Cook.

Wednesday, June 15, 1998, 2:37 A.M.

I had the weirdest dream last night. Only, it didn't seem like a dream at the time. I could have sworn it was real. For a few minutes, I thought it was. It was the weirdest dream I had ever had, but not in the typical dream weirdness. This dream was weird, because it was so vivid.

I'm writing this at 2:37 in the morning, and I'm going to try to write down everything I can remember about the dream, so in case I forget it later, it will all be here to refresh my memory. Though how I could forget something like this, I'll never know.

I decided to write this down since it seemed to be the only way to get my mind at peace. I have lain awake since about midnight trying to get to sleep. I hate when that happens, because it usually means there's something I'm forgetting. Something important, but my conscience mind doesn't know what. So, I figured writing couldn't hurt me any, so I'll write.

I guess the dream started in a classroom of my school. The teacher, Mr. Horst, was discussing Ancient Greece, and the war that the Greeks had with the Spartans. He was telling us about the raven the Greeks would put on the bows of their ship. Then, when they would ram the Spartan's ships, it actually lifted them out of the water, if not cutting a hole right into the side of the ship.

I was writing down notes, when out of nowhere, a song started playing somewhere. It was the Barenaked Ladies singing It's All Been Done. There was the familiar guitar chords, and the vocals joined in. "I. Met you. Before the fall of Rome." Then, just as suddenly, they were gone. Total silence in the classroom.

Mr. Horst went on teaching like nothing had happened. Yet the words kept repeating in my head. I met you before the fall of Rome.

I met you before the fall of Rome.

I met you before the fall of Rome.

Then, all of a sudden, I guess with one of those weird dream shifts that seem totally natural at the time, I was actually IN ancient Rome.

I was walking along the streets of the gridiron taking in all the strange new smells, things I couldn't pronounce, let alone even recognize. There were foods I had never seen; yet seemed totally familiar. There were smells I had never smelt, that were also as familiar to me as the spaghetti sauce I have been making since I was old enough to help my mom.

I shouldn't have recognized a one of them, but I did. I told you it was a weird dream. But I suppose everyone is entitled to one weird dream or another, at some time.

Inside the confines of the dream though, everything seemed perfectly natural at the time though. The smells, the sights, the people. Some of them, I recognized. In the dream, they were as familiar to me as my family, but upon waking and thinking, I didn't know any of them.

Walking along the street, I came across a vendor selling fruit.

"Ah, Malkius," he said, "How are you this fine day?" In the weird style of dreams, this ancient Roman was speaking English. Which was fine with me, understand. I responded as if I had been called Malkius all my life.

"I am doing well. How are you, Oedipus?"

"I cannot complain, for what good would it do?" We laughed together at the joke.

"Tell me," I said. "Have you any black olives today?" I was suddenly craving black olives, though I had no idea why. Normally, I don't eat black olives.

"Why, yes, Malkius. I have some right here." He handed me a large bunch of olives. "Do those suit you, young master?"

"Oh, yes, they do. Just fine, thank you. How much?" He told me a price I thought to be a bit below the average going rate for olives, but I didn't complain. I paid him, and went along my merry way.

You know how time just sort of passes in a dream? Well, that's what happened here. I was suddenly out of olives, and my stomach was full. As I walked, I saw no one on else on the street until I turned the corner. Then, there was a large crowd of people, as busy as any San Francisco street.

Without faltering, I stepped into the crowd, driven by a feeling I couldn't explain, and still can't. There was somewhere I had to get to, but I didn't know where it was, or why I had to get there.

Then, with no explanation, the feeling was gone. The drive had vanished. I stopped dead in my tracks, wondering what had happened. That was when she bumped into me.

It was a girl, younger then I was, though not by much. When I turned to face her, our eyes locked. Something passed between us, though I have no idea what, and then it was gone.

She reached a hand up and caressed my cheek.

"We have always been, and always will be, my love. Wait for me, I am coming to you." That was all she said. The she was gone. Vanished, just like in the style of dreams. After that, I walked down the street, turned another corner where I thought she had run to, and.... and....

What happened after that?

The dream faded, and I didn't remember any of it.

Just a sec.

I read over this entry, and remembered it as I read it, but as soon as I was done, it was all gone again.

Well, I guess I was right. Writing helped me. I'm tired again, so I'm off to the land of Nod, or Counterpane or whatever land that was that Robert Louis Stevenson used to describe sleep.

Quote of the day: Guns don't kill people, postal workers do.

Tuesday, June 21, 1998, 3:52 A.M.

I thought it was a fluke, but I had the dream again. I can remember my mother telling me that no one ever dreams the same dream twice, except for when their subconscious is trying to tell them something.

So, I wondered what my subconscious was trying to tell me. This dream varied slightly, but it was the same dream. However, the ending was horribly different.

I was sitting in history class, Mr. Horst was talking about ancient Rome, or Greece, or whatever, when the music came from everywhere and nowhere.

"I. Met you. Before the fall of Rome." Then it was gone, just like before. Then I was in Ancient Rome. And walking down a street, that seemed as familiar as my own. There was Oedipus, the olive vendor, and he sold me some olives again. As I walked, I ate the olives, and thought about everything I knew about wherever I was. I recognized all the vendors I passed, and some of the people, and then she was there again.

Suddenly, in a snap, she was right beside me, hand in mine, fingers laced together. I hadn't even known she was there, until she spoke.

"Hello, my little pita pocket," she said. I colored in embarrassment. I hated it when she called me that.

"Hi Tarlyn. I missed you. When are you going to come back to me for good?" She smiled, and caressed my cheek with her hand.

"When the Fates see fit," was all she said.

"I have been waiting for you since the fall," I heard myself, yet not myself, say. I- the real me- had no idea what I was talking about.

"We are close, my love. Soon. You must be patient." We had walked to the corner of a busy intersection, it was strange, but I couldn't see the other side. It was like.... There was a fog or something concealing it from me. She let go of my hand.

We stood on the corner and looked into each other's eyes. She was for me and I for her. It was written in the stars, and on our hearts. She was my life.

Which was strange to me, since I had never seen this girl outside of my dreams, and hadn't even seen her until 6 days ago. I had no idea who she was, and yet I knew everything about her. Her favorite color was green, and she liked olive juice as a salad dressing, and she had a small mole on her upper left arm. I knew all this, though I had never met her outside of my dreams, and only twice in my dreams.

It was truly strange.

"As it was, it shall be, and as it shall be, it once was. It's all been done before, and it will all be done again. We have danced this dance many times, and we will dance it many more. The love I have for you, though I may love others, is unrivaled. Always, I will come to you and you to me. Us to each other. We were, soon will be, and always are." She stepped off the walk and onto the street.

The busy street. I tried to follow her, but she would not allow me. "No, Malkius. Where I go, you cannot follow. Not yet. We will be together though, I promise you." She turned and walked into the middle of the street. Into the fog. When she was half concealed, she turned and faced me.

"Come to me, Malkius. I am waiting. Come to me. Come to me, my love. It's all been done before. It will all be done again. The Fates cannot be resisted." As she spoke, the song came out of nowhere again.

"You go your way, I go mine, But I'll see you next timeÉ" and then it was gone. She had been silently moving backward, and her voice had been fading. When the fog concealed her, her voice stopped. Sudden silence reigned. The babble of voices from behind us, from the vendors hawking their wares to the cry of little children had all faded, until there was just the fog, and silence. Then, a ticking began. I didn't know what it was.

Then, fading in little by little, hoof steps, and a rattle of some sort.

The hoof steps grew louder, and the rattling did also, until I realized it was a Chariot coming down the street. As if that was what I had needed to know, the fog lifted, and I could see the entire scene before my eyes.

Tarlyn stood in the street, and love welled up in my chest, as I saw her look to me. She mouthed the words, "I love you," and then closed her eyes.

I stood on the corner, and watched as the chariot bounded down the road, noticed her too late, and hit her. The rider of the chariot had a strange look on his face, almost a manic glee as the chariot hit her. The smile on his face didn't touch his one eye. His other eye was covered by a patch.

The horse reared, and came down. The hooves landed on her waist. There was a crunching sound, and a tortured scream. Momentum carried the chariot forward, and the left wheel crushed her neck, while the right passed cleanly over the ground.

My chest felt like it was ripping itself apart, and I could imagine the way my face looked, as disbelief, and horror fought for room on my face. I ran out into the street, and fell by her body. I lifted her small broken body in my arms, and heard her groan in pain. I was amazed she could still be alive. She wouldn't be alive for long though.

She looked up at me, one eye filled with blood, the other filling, and whispered to me. It was barely audible through her crushed throat, but I could make it out.

"It's all been done before."

Then, she was gone. The pain I felt was almost audible, it was like a rumbling deep down, which ripped through my body, and threatened to tear me in half.

I awoke with the sheets tangled around my body, and the stench of sweat in the air. That was possibly the worst experience I have ever had. I reached over to turn on my radio, since I could never get back to sleep without some sort of music playing.

I hit the button, and immediately the radio station burst forth with a tune that I knew, but couldn't place. The music continued, maddening me with its familiarity, and then it hit me, I knew what the song was.

I knew as soon as the words started up again. "Ooo-oo-oo-OO! Its all been done.... Ooo-oo-oo-OO! Its all been done.... Ooo-oo-oo-OO! Its all been doooooooonnnnnneeee... befooooorrrrreee...."

I slammed off my radio and pulled out my journal, and here I am. I have no idea what this dream is about, or why I'm having it. Although this time, it seemed like me and... I've already forgotten. Let me go look. Be right back.

Okay, I'm back. Didja miss me? 'Course you didn't. You didn't even know I was gone. Anyway, her name was... Talryn.

That's it. It seemed like me and Talryn knew each other. In a personal way. I had no idea what that meant. But looking back over the dream, it seems like we have known each other all our lives. Maybe even longer. I have no idea what that means either. This whole deal is just too freakin' weird.

Now that I've written this down though, I'm awful tired, so I'm gonna hit the sack.

Quote of the Day: "And when the processions had proceeded, according to the precedent, the elephant's child came to the banks of the great grey-green greasy limpopo river, all spread about with fever trees."

-Rudyard Kipling

-How the Elephant got his Trunk

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

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