The Erotic Dream of Miley Cyrus 4

Suddenly, I was awakened and discovered that I was stretched upon a couch in a therapy room, whilst an analyst stood before me, with arms extended, palpitating my sides and observing the way that I was breathing.
   Satisfied, he took a palette of colours from beside him and started to paint my face. At the corners of my eyes he painted tears of blood. He felt my chin for stubble. He started to mould my face like plasticine. He would shape for me the perfect face.
   Next, he concentrated on rearranging my body. Firstly, he plumped me up, and then he patted me down: fat then thin then fat then thin. I started to rise, free from my physical trappings. I was an oak.
   The Psych laid offerings of food and flowers at my roots. My bark opened out to reveal the interior of a small theatre. The front of the stage was lined with little people who waited patiently in anticipation of receiving a gift. The Psych removed them one by one, pinching the napes of their necks. He set them down before him and started to tell them a story: 'Once upon a time we walked together through a forest, hand in hand.' There was something in my mind, but could I bear to speak out? Truth or Art? That those around me were simply hollow fabrications into which I had pumped life. But I was distracted as I listened to him speak and imagined us passing through an avenue flanked by applauding spectators. I affected the demeanour of a pantomime artiste. I was the puffed up king.
   Before us was a large, square room with no ceiling and one missing wall. Into this I guided my faithful entourage. We were greeted by a woman, tall, lithe and fair. I was fascinated by her, but the others clearly were not. One by one they each drifted back in the direction from whence they had come and when the woman herself attempted to approach me she suddenly collapsed to the floor, quite dead, and started to rapidly decay.
   From the place she had fallen there flowed two thin rivulets which stretched like arms towards me. At their apex a solitary acorn poked from the ground, opening out to reveal a child. I was afraid.
   A hatchway opened in the floor before me and from below rose the grinding sound of a horrendous machine.
   I froze and took a long moment of deep reflection. That done, I felt the brief perception of a chill breath upon me. I felt, furthermore, as though I was ready to take my own life. I laid down upon the grass.
   From behind me I heard the beeping of an earth moving machine reversing. It was trying to tip me into the hole, like a coin into a money box.
   At this point everything started to blur. However, I could perceive, in the distance, a place of anguish, lit, it seemed, by flashes of lightning.
   Memories that had been concealed rose to the surface of my mind. A peasant house in which a very aged couple stood, hand clasped in hand, before an altar. From their free hands they each released a bat then called out "Stay!" at which command the bats froze, suspended in the air. The couple then grasped the bats like stones and hurled them with a mighty force, as though they were missiles, through an open window, towards the distant town, which they entered via the jaws and passed right through, to the anus, from which they made their exit, covered in excrement, floating freely in the night sky, unattainable. Suddenly, they were snatched away, as though they had been torn from view.