Hello? Hello?! On the other end of an empty telephone a man’s voice is heard ~ as he runs through the empty streets a nightmare unfolds. A thrilling poetic art film, by Laurence Fuller follows a man thrust deep into his own nightmare. With no way out, he must confront the spirals in his own shadows. Chasing the echoing corridors has has intense and vivid visions, in a surreal labyrinth of a facility.

City Nightmares: The Facility ~ is the first in a series of three, poetic cinematic fine art pieces by Laurence Fuller.

Poetry;

Hello? Hello?! Let me empty my thoughts,
I applied to every department in this facility,
Did you get my messages?
I had many questions I just thought I’d mention this,
I’ve been having visions lately;

City Nightmares,
Constants frightful ticking,
Moments of our dreams, Snapping claws and jaws of giant chomping beasts, Breaking down these rubble streets, Clean and filthy all at once, Convincing with their tongues
Their wrong choices buried in the right ones.

Time for me to act,
But the other side of the telephone gives radio silence,
And the humming of a static television on repeat,

Godzilla reruns,
In a smoke filled dusty motel,
While a homeless man outside hums to a lonely beat.

Hello? Hello?!
I called but nobody answered.
Hello? Hello?!
I called but nobody answered.

It’s all fucking broken again they howl. A boy mashing plastic dinosaurs on the clay floor,
He once saw, covered in tiles,
As his mother protects him from,
The blood on the floor.

Will she steal him away from her? Crayon dinosaurs chew through cardboard, Cut outs of that perfect image of love that doesn’t exist.
It all fell apart and there was nothing left but a giant crab in an existential crisis.

Off to the night watchers and their dangerous party fancies, Off to the street that heaves in disappointed angry daggers, Off to that destructive force that makes you wonder why you were ever really here.

Some stupid complacency inspires me to stare into colors of my nightmares, I’m burdened by this right to know myself,
On the darkest level Through the safest objects, Growling midnight demons of my spirit prowling, in an open dark forest.

She inspired the best parts of me by hunting my nightmares,
And there I stuck like a petulant child,
Until absence forced my will to act. Like a giant crab, she towered over my adolescence Screeching for me to wake up from my nightmares.

Poetry & Performance & AI animation, art & music by Laurence Fuller @laurencefuller
www.laurencefuller.art/web3