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May. 12th, 2012

dream from last night

There was a Great Flood, drowning out the world slowly. People were frenetic, yet not jittery.
I traveled through yards and tunnels, man-made networks of cobalt blue metal, and somewhere I was able to catch a glimpse of the great ocean at ground level. Even though it devoured civilization, there was verdant life in the glimpse - trees in a courtyard with life swirling within it, bathing in the sun and mocking the oncoming destruction by not having a care.

And then, I go back to the start.

There is a hive of people hustling and striding around me. Gathering supplies under thick and heavy rain, they bustle across a beaten, dirt square with traces of cobblestone. Under the light of an open door, I met a fellow who happily gave me information, where on my phone, digital rectangles, lit with green on each perimeter, lined up horizontally on top that chirped with data. He transferred a map with shelters, survival tips, and contact information with the remaining, dwindling community.

People were dying at a constant and consistent rate. Death was inevitable, even with the myths of a safe-haven where water cannot invade.
But yet at each scene, people were equipped with upbeat enthusiasm and sheer delight of encountering another survivor.
I traveled through torch-lit catacombs, up factory ramps, meeting new people that grew warm in sight of another person. All the while, bodies of water in varying size seemed to be present everywhere, steadily streaming upward through graceful torrents.

This dream mirrors, a bit, my zombie-apocalypse dreams. Yet this one was so much more elegant. All the people made my journey to higher ground so much more cheerful.

Jan. 26th, 2012

vessels that leave sinking metals

A piece of myself broke off - a capsule that carried me into a 'certain light'. I traveled some distance with it, and the capsule spoke, "I prefer to be in the dark with my brethren than be alone in the light."
The chariot dissolved, and I become 'whole' again.
I wonder about the lives I would've live had I adhered and embodied these ephemeral 'realities'.

Dec. 10th, 2011

all farewells are sudden

In hindsight, I learn about my mind's eye and how much it is not privy to.
At work tonight, the thoughts were barely even creeping into my attention span when I felt the lower levels crumbling, breaking down - I knew why I had to excuse myself, even though I wasn't thinking of her name & memory in any specific manner. Once I broke that hump, though, I was in shaky waters thereafter.
I knew then, and I know better now: the thought that bared the most weight was seeing her empty bed when I got home... or even worse, if it would've been already removed by my mother.
How amazingly depressing & cathartic it would have been to clutch it and dive into its scent.


May. 24th, 2010

The Beckoning

Colors stream out from, what is that, some kind of light? It follows wherever I look. My head must be a magnifying glass, and something immense & piney is giggling from way behind.
Ideas and faces blossom out from the center, taking form as they prepare for light-speed beyond my shoulders.
As they tickle my grip, the sardonic speaks, "rapture only exists in a mind, oh mindless one."

May. 3rd, 2010


Some nights when I lay in bed, I imagine an axe arcing above me in a swift attempt to decapitate me. Regardless of what position I'm laying in, there is, without fail, a safeguard that appears from nowhere to intercept the blow. A metal ring, looser than a collar, catches the strike flawlessly every time, within its thinly ridged, concaved partition, creating a spark of unseen light.

Perhaps these are spirits that enjoy using my neck as an anvil to temper their blades and dispositions. Is there a war to be had? Enough mind has been forged, but little motion has stirred; a hump of clay sits without shape while the artist slumps and stares at it.
"There's enough movement from one world," came an utter, from somewhere between the man and his reflection, "why add another dimension to the madness?"
Like Alpha-Bits in milk oddly yielding a message, the spirits' stance and gait conveyed these words: This body is our corporeal beacon, while we are its ethereal escape.
"So where do I come in?"
You're missing the point.

All the meanwhile, I toss and turn in bed, laying atop my fragmented kingdom.

May 2012




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