Everyplace my mind goes, i leave these trails behind me to follow back on day.  Even these tiny thoughts seem to catch in my mind.  They leave these memories that are like pathways to follow.  Tiny lines between me and the dream.  Each one seems to have a label hanging over it that can tell me when and where it goes.  I know i can follow these thoughts back to the source.

I am leaving traces of filaments all over my mind.  Everywhere there are these webs and branches.  But they aren’t branches, since they will never see the light.  They seem to be roots.  Roots to drag out what is needed for my body to grow.  Something reaching out and down, over and over.  Looking and seeking for the things to pull back to the core.  A tiny dream here, a movement in the world there.  All of this is building to something, but i don’t know what yet.  It seems so purposeful when i stop and look at the pieces.  But at the same time, i feel like it is almost random as well.  SOmething moves from me, reaching till it finds the minerals it needs, or the water. Then the connection begins to thicken.

The thickness seems to be the usefulness of the pathway.  Not only because of where it goes, but because of where it can send new threads out.  Like a rich vein of ore, just spreading in a rock. These roots have so many parallels in the world.  Roads being built from one place to another follow a topography of the earth.  Slime molds and fungus sending out tendrals.  Everything reaching for it’s building blocks, but doing so in a normal way.

Ants seem the same to me, they start at a point of base, and just pass into the world.  Leaving tiny chemical ropes behind them.  Trailing back to home.  They find a resource and then leave another signal on the return trip.  Each ant makes the ribbon of scent thicker and thicker.  Until it is a highway leading to the end.  There must be a reason that this pattern repeats over and over.

But with my dreams, they seem to be the same.  They pass and weave around all these tiny bits of knowledge, and then land on one.  The bit strengthens and changes my mind in subtle ways that I can’t place.  I seem to be building up a repository of information and knowledge that means more than what i can see now.  How do we integrate the hidden world of sleep and dreams into the world in the sun.  Is it only that I spend my days frozen in time in this room, and my nights moving through a world i don’t think is mine?  Maybe that switch is causing me to wonder what those underground branches look like.  Maybe i would see a contour of rock and soil.

I dream of rich soil providing no barrier for my growth and spreading limbs.  The only guide is the richness of the food and water I find.  Following the natural content and concentration of minerals, how closely does my root system mimic my branches.  Does the quality and shape of my roots make my branches grow in certain shapes.