Lonely ghosts and an almost-full moon…

 

A very sensory, yet very surreal, week. Or mindset.

Things are both ambiguous and very clear. In mental limbo and yet absolutely certain about…well, see the secrets part below.

A inevitability from which there is no escape, and yet, a promise of a new beginning.

It’s a little maddening and frightening, but also soothing and comforting.

I’m frustrated and resigned at the same time. I’m believing in my instincts and dreams and signs but also practical about their impossibility in this dimension.

The moon is blue-bright and has been keeping me awake, but it’s not even full yet.

There’s lots of secrets, which are also revelations.

Some songs from the 90s are (uncharacteristically!?!?) the current soundtrack to my inner world. Out of nowhere I had this urge to listen to them.

I’m both running away and towards something, simultaneously. Distance, and closeness, all at once.

Nothing much seems to have a point right now, including this blog, yet I’m compelled to put words out there, even if they are trivial, unrelated, or don’t make any sense.

Watched a movie tonight titled “I Don’t Feel at Home in this World Anymore”.

Been wanting to give “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” a re-watch, and re-read Griffin and Sabine, but hesitated to take that literary/cinematic journey.

“Foolish man. You cannot turn me into a phantom because you are frightened. You do not dismiss a muse at whim.” – Sabine Strohem
Nick Bantock, Griffin and Sabine

 

 

The Skeptic’s Horoscope

The Skeptic’s Horoscope

Like Mulder,

I want to believe.

But my brain reads like Scully’s.

And so I ignore the red roses

pierced with Cupid’s arrows

or the cheap bottle of wine

(that I’d rather was a bottle of scotch).

Ironic that all these February horoscopes

promise you the Valentine’s love beat down.

Yet, I still dreamt of you

as the snow moon got weekend drunk.

For fuck’s sake, I cursed in my sleep,

feeling candy-heart cliché.

But you surprised me, as you always do,

looking all too real with your

goofy grin and childish hope in your eyes.

Love, I thought, from across the room.

I love you, you idiot.

I knew your hand would be sweaty when I held it.

I knew you would smell of warm dirt and apples.

I knew you would be still there when I woke up.

I knew that everything would be rainbows and daisies and

breakfasts in bed.

I knew we would always be strangers.

I knew I would sit next to you in painful silence.

I knew I would know regret.

I knew I would wake up alone.

.

On Dreaming…

“No, but…there is the dream of someone else.” –Kathleen Kelly, You’ve Got Mail

“For in dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own. Let him swim in the deepest ocean or glide over the highest cloud.”–Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

VNV Nation–Illusion

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AS3p05KX9L0

Somebody told me recently that they didn’t attach too much importance to dreams. As in, sleeping, REM dreams. I felt foolish, at first, admitting that yes, I do believe dreams serve a purpose. I still believe that. The dreams that have proved problematic, or heart-breaking, even, are the ones that I dream while I’m awake. There, they end up just screwing with your head–like mistakenly believing in the appearance of real-life love, or false concepts of one’s one worth, for example, or other bitter, cynical conclusions I’ve begun to accept/adopt. Those are the real illusions that the human mind creates for itself, not dreams. For in dreams, you know you are dreaming, you already know that you are moving and living in an impossible realm, so there is no disappointment. Even nightmares hold a certain dramatic fascination.

They take my mind on wonderful journeys to otherworldly realms–allowing me to escape this prosaic, drab reality when it becomes too wearing.

My dreams are so fantastical and vivid that I often channel them into writing–they’ve inspired stories, and poetry, and make me wish I was a visual artist so I could capture the landscapes and images.

They often provide clarity to an issue I’m struggling with, or sometimes even provide messages/insight that my conscious thinking mind blocks.

Sometimes even the simple wish-fulfillment dreams are a comfort…a place where I could be respected, valued, even loved (I’m pretty damn unlikable, apparently.).

At the risk of sounding out-there, new-agey, I’ve even had a couple of precognitive dreams. I’ve dreamed of people I haven’t met yet, or situations I had yet to go through–sometimes even getting a warning about dangerous situations. I’m pretty sure there’s a scientific explanation out there for those type of dreams, like you are subconsciously picking up on clues that, when your filtering brain is turned off, come to the fore.

But who knows…

I just know that I love dreaming, I dream in colour, and I remember my dreams every night…and they provide an outlet for my vivid, highly visual imagination that reality fails to encourage…

Do you dream?