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A ringing came out of my head in my dream last night.  It was this sound like someone had hit a crystal with an iron rod.  Something large, and like a monolith.  Something that stood to the sky, and then someone ran at it with a huge iron rod in their hands.  They hit it and the sound started at the base and travelled up the length of the crystal.

I couldn’t see any of this, it wasn’t even a part of my dream.  I remember parts of what was in my head, and then this sound.  This ringing deep sound started.  It was something like a force pushing into my whole body from the sound alone.  It made my teeth hurt.  My eyes felt full.

The thing about the sound is that I knew where it was coming from, and couldn’t tell you how i knew, or where it was coming from.  It seemed to flood into the world.  Like a noise that became all the world around me.  Then something happened that hasn’t happened that I can remember.  I knew i wasn’t awake.  I knew i was in a dream, and i didn’t wake up.  It was like waking up in a strange place, and not knowing how i got there.  Knowing that I was asleep, i could see around myself and see the movement of the things around me.

Suddenly I knew i was a part of this dream, but apart from the dream.  I need to find out what this crystal was.  Who rang the thing, and what was it for.  What was the reason for my waking up now.  Why wasn’t i awake in the world, and still in the dream i was in before.  I know this means something, and seem like right now i can’t focus to figure it out.

Like i know that I need to figure out why my brain seems to shudder and start.  Why is my mind piecing this background information into my reality.  Why is the dream becoming so much more real than anything else.  When was i last awake, and why are my dreams becoming more vivid over time. I seem to be putting things together while my body sleeps.  Frozen, but my mind moves.

by ·Comments Off on Roots dig deep

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.Continue reading

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I was asleep again.  Asleep and awake in the pillows.  I can’t be asleep in the pillows, because there is only one pillow.  There isn’t pillows in the sense of multiple pillows that I could be inside of.  I have one thin pillow behind my head.  It has been the same place, and it has been the same pillow.  My head feels about 5 degrees, above the plane of my body.  I wonder sometimes, is this the amount that some medical book says a human body should rest at?  Why not flat?  Why not higher?

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by ·Comments Off on Ten pennies face up all

It was focused on dreams of copper. It was everywhere, and kept showing up on surfaces. Shining and sharp in color, it showed on so many things that it must have meant something.

It made me think that I have noticed my dreams aren’t of gold and silver, but copper comes again and again.  This one seemed to see plates built of copper, and pennies.  Strange that something so common can stand out so clearly.

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I have been spending the last few days trying to figure out what is going on.  I can’t tell if this is a prison, or if the whole thing is just a dream that I can’t wake up from.  I noticed that the dreams i do have never seem to show my face.  Never seem to show a reflection in anything that you would normally expect.  I know that I should see my face back in a reflection in a window or a car, or something, but there isn’t anything there at all.

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by ·Comments Off on Touch through edges

My mind keeps going into itself.  I keep returning to these same thoughts over and over.  Like a note that keeps playing in my mind.  Everything i do to distract myself from this thought seems to end up pulling me back.  So maybe that is something.  Is this what i am supposed to think about?  Will it stay in my mind until i have looked at it from every angle?  Smoothed out the rough edges and sanded it down to a sphere?

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by ·Comments Off on Scratching and beetles
Staircase

I was breeding beetles last night.  I had buckets of them.  Buckets of larva, crawling and seeking food.  Buckets of pupae, turning into something new.  Buckets of beetles, scratching and scritching looking for mates.

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Into the Mind

This was a dream that stood up on it’s own.  Like something out of someone’s life that wasn’t mine.  It must have been someone else, but It is harder and harder to tell the difference.  I saw it all so clearly, so perfect.  I almost felt the emotions, but there was this wall of glass between what was happening and what I was feeling.  Like looking in on something in a fishtank.  Swimming and living, and distinct.  I remember the feelings though, and the smell.  Like a list of characters, and words.  Symbols of what I was seeing and what was attached to each event.

I have to remember this, and start to put it into some form that stays in my mind.  Things seem to slip away sometimes, and they should be there, but they aren’t.  I know that I need to remember this, but at the same time if it fades like the other memories, i feel like i will still have it with me.  It needs to remain, it has to feel burnt into place.

I remember the feeling of the birth, the body and the pain.  I remember the feelings of my stomach pulling itself inward.  Pain was so sharp, but after so long, it was like the pain was who i was.  I couldn’t remember a time when i didn’t hurt, and it was now just a core part of me.  I remember also this sense of peace.  Like this was right and this was human.  Something that was beyond my understanding and also so pure that it didn’t even need to be understood.

I remember the feeling that somehow I was a string, and i was in the process of tying another piece of string to mine.  Like I needed to badly tie a knot between us, and let this string start to unwind from me.  But at the same time, it was connected to me.  It threw my mind back, and I realized that I was connected to a thread, and so was that thread.  We were the warp, the woof was everyone passing along the thread to hold it in place.  The warp was unending and timeless.

But then the pain, the feeling of being too tight.  My whole body felt too tight.  Like the skin couldn’t hold what I was doing in any longer.  Something was bursting out, and needing to be freed or I would rip apart.  Come apart at the seams and fall to pieces.  This feeling was something so new, and so primal.  I couldn’t tell you how long each burst last.  It seemed timeless and too short at the same moment.  Something so much a part of me that I knew i couldn’t forget.  At the same time though I knew that my brain was washing itself in a way to make this pain fall away.  Something to keep the moment at bay.

My son was being born.  I remember that moment.  The moment it came back to me what was happening.  What was being done.  What was going on, and what it meant for me and every thread going back down the line above me.  Every line that would be held in place by his.  Something was happening, and I could feel it so clearly.

This memory seems so real.  I just need a moment to think, a moment to reflect.  Maybe if I close my eyes for a minute, the details will be clear.  The moment will seem real, or i will know if that was me.  Did I have this memory?

by ·Comments Off on Dank and fertile

I dreamt of life and smells last night.  So many smells mixed together, but the one that stood out more than anything was the smell of wet earth and life.  It smelled like freshly tilled soil.  Something that is as much a part of the plant as the sun and the wind.  It was almost crawling with life.  But at the same time, it was sleeping.

My dreams seem to be streching out more and more.  The time frames of them are beyond what I remember from before.  From before I was here. I still think these are someone else’s dreams that have made their way into my mind.  I keep having flashes that my mind is this bank.  Not a bank of money or of a river, but something hard and unyeilding.  I know it is so hard to think of terms that pull in what it seems like.  Why can’t I remember what I look like anymore?

I know that something is present in these moments when i dream, some fragment of a memory.  Some bit of me is in these moments, but they always cut away before I can see myself.  When i try to catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror or a reflective surface, i see light.  Only a blurred light, and I don’t understand why.  How long has it been since I have seen my face.  Why don’t I remember what I look like?  What if i have seen reflections in the distance, but couldn’t tell it was me i was seeing.

The dream though.  The earth, the feeling of the soil, the sensation of my hands in the ground.  I can feel my hands plunging into it.  Reaching into the ground and the earth surrounding them.  It was cool, and warm at the same time.  Soothing, and rough.  And the smell that rose from the ground was something I can’t describe.  I read once that the smell is a bacteria.  That when it is disturbed it releases a chemical signal.  A warning alarm of some sort.  I can’t remember if that is true, or another dream.  Is that smell that comforts me so much a scream of the dirt.  It can’t be that our brains are tied into that smell so closely.  I still wonder if I was a farmer.  What did i do when i wasn’t here?  When i wasn’t dreaming all the time.  Dreaming in this room and this bed.  Stuck in this body.  I can’t have been a farmer could i?  I must have done something, but I can’t remember any of it.  I know i had a job to do, and work that was mine, but it isn’t something I dream about.  I can’t remember what it was anymore.  I can’t remember so much of what was happening before I got here.

Today was disjointed.  All the thoughts I had are tumbling around, working their way through my brain.  Like a scramble of thoughts, where each one is there as a picture or a thumbnail of the underlying idea.  Nothing major or themed in any way comes through, but each is trying to get free at the same moment.

by ·Comments Off on Far over, all things cold.

I was so cold last night.  Beyond what I think cold can be.  A frozen feeling so deep, i could feel my marrow turn to crystal.  Some lattice formed in my veins, and moved through my blood.  a form of ice that moved into all parts of me.  I don’t know how to describe the feeling.  Knowing that each cell the lattice touched was a part of a chain, linking from cell to cell.  Everything becoming frozen.  What does that mean in a dream.  I know what the feeling of the crystal was.  What the feeling of resonance was, and in each cell the slow thrum.  Thrum is the word that comes to mind but it isn’t right.  It was something between a wave of a thrumming string, and a whirling motion of a whirlpool.

It started enough like everything else to seem so normal.  Normal i guess must be relative to me, since as long as i can remember I have been here in this room and this bed.  For me though, it started as most of my dreams do.  Just things happening like watching a movie.  Knowing that you are in a movie, but not able to stop the frames, or move the point of view.  Then something reached out from the dream and touched my hand.  Right behind the middle knuckle of my right hand.  That is when it happened.  The point of contact, i could feel it down to the atom.  The movement was like two spinning spheres going in opposite directions coming in contact.  The speed was the same, and they seemed to cancel themselves out.  It felt like a bike wheel stopping in space, and all the momentum moving back to the frame and throwing me forward.  Every bit of the energy from that stopped the next cell.

I remember gasping, pulling my breath in like it was the last thing that I would ever do.  Knowing that this can’t be happening.  Feeling this frozen cold spreading like sparks of electricity up from my hand.  I remember I looked down at my hand, and didn’t know what it was.  Looking at it, i could almost see the change happening.  Knowing that the spread was starting.  I could feel each piece of matter stop.  It felt like a clockwork gear that was only held together by the force of motion.  Then, the smallest gear stopped moving and fell out of place.  The next stopped because the first wasn’t there to push it.  It felt like a cascade of pieces moving out of place.

I felt this unknowing terror at this, and remember my left hand grabbing my right wrist and knowing that this was pointless.  Like a person bitten by a snake as they reached under a log.  You pull back and grab your hand, but there isn’t a way to stop what has started.  The poison was inside of me then, and would follow it’s course.  The body wasn’t meant to have parts stop.  The system had no way to deal with this, or a way to partition the frozen portions before the hazard spread and moved beyond the point of collision.  I can’t even remember who touched my hand, or what they were doing in my dreams.  Everything focused on the point and the feeling of danger.  Now I am awake again, and can’t look down to see what my body is doing.