Friday, April 15, 2005

A metaphor for my whole existance....

So as I lay in my bed, reeling with the blissful disconnected feeling that a couple of 500mg tablets of vicodin can provide, on the verge of sleep, dream, is that predream state where visions of light flash through my head, words and sounds (yes there where sounds, this doesn't happens often). The audio portion of this predream dreaming was a child's audio being played on a 45, something I had heard earlier that day, a playback from a few hours earlier. The words where my own poetic ramblings, and I knew then to be that metaphor for my whole exhistance. Something like being pulled from a void, looking up through darkness, now I remember, standing on the bottom of the ocean staring up at myself, swimming on the top of that vast ocean. There where layers of murky depths between me and me. many potentialities manifest throughout the pseudo dream state, salvation, words, damnation, darkness, a hand reaching down through the depths, a turtle floating by, that girl from work says something to me and keeps typing, I should be typing, I should type this all down, I should remember this it is useful, like that dream where I followed my father sucessfully through what whould appear to be dreaming rituals, only to have to stop to help my brother prepare the wood and tarp for proper dreaming, knowing he could not defeat the nightmare, but this is duty.....still these are all destortions, remember a dream, even a waking one, become somewhat like trying to hold the amorpious solid in one form, and you awake when you like it your not you force that holds the shape of the dream slips and the substance starts to slip through your fingers. All I remember of the dream is goo. All I can describe is perhaps the colour, texture, flavour of the goo, not the shape, the points of that connected the whole, that gave it form. And as I passed into unconsciousness I know I must save as much of this as I can.....a voice is laughing somewhere in the distance.....and I awaken the next morning tounge as course as sand.

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