Night Visitors

The stranger made his appearance amidst erupting streams of tawny, frothing urine.  Clearly, this was a dream-state message: my dozing body's urgent plea to wake and relieve a heavy bladder.  But before I could rouse myself for this escalating need, the figure requested I heed his directive.  I asked point blank, "Are you God?" and the reply was, "Yes."  I assumed it was a "he", although the statuesque creature was nearly gender-neutral.  It may have had a female companion to his right, but she differed little in form or build, and wordlessly attended to the periphery of the scene.  They were uncharacteristically filthy for divine characters, clearly sourced from the growing awareness that I needed to find a latrine.  These lizard-like visitors were influenced somewhat by the title creature of the Predator science fiction films, as they sported rows of tentacles from their crests (but not the hideous viper jawline).  Such dangling "cornrows" could have possibly been matted hair, similar to John Travolta's dreadlocks in the ridiculous Battlefield Earth; clearly in my imagination this species had been formulated as a mutation on the human order.  Their bodies were slimy --doused in snotty, fecal excrement-- yet they were strong and erect, with a horse's quiet nobility.  Again, the pair presented as reptilian, but also as reverse-centaur, with the face of a mare and quarters of man.  (Details are hazy and growing fainter with the day's progression.)  More important was their purpose:  they had come to carry an urgent missive.  Correct your path and refine your efforts.  Should you not, you will return to the "source" --i.e. the beginning of your days-- from where you will revisit events without the power to change how they are played.  (An easy comparison might be the ultimate fate of John Cusak's "Craig" in Being John Malkovich, wherein a soul is housed for decades by a host, only to watch that person's life, powerlessly jailed.)  In any event, I expressed my displeasure at the notion of retracing my rather unremarkable thirty years, especially to repeat the same profound blunders without improved or informed approach.  To avoid this destiny, he professed, it is essential that I again resume the process of relinquishing my disordered ways.  Drink your prescribed Orgain shakes.  (I have been filling-up on baked winter squash for most of the week's lunches, admittedly avoiding these carefully-balanced supplement drinks.)  Settle for nothing less than a different path.  It is not too late -- but for how much longer is unknown.