My bones hold the secrets of who I could have become had I not tucked my rebellion behind a bitten tongue. There is black in my marrow from the rage, a sort of noble rot, I’m sure. I spent my youth in a prison of pretend meekness and dimmed inner light, prostrate to an angry god created to control and punish those who dared find another voice. The meek do not inherit the earth; but the observant , the kind , the strange ones that have the power of the sun locked in their secret heart, carry the whole of the ocean in their thermos.
The quiet men with wills like oak and faces like moonstones.
The clever, the trickster, the daughters with many faces and souls full of all the magic they can swallow, we know the earth hangs in the sky, and is the birthright of no one.
If I had daughters, they would know the universe is the companion of the thoughtful, the kind, and the brave. That no religion demanding the silence of women is valuable,that your body is a temple only to your spirit, and lovers will make offerings freely. Meekness is the lie of weak men and arcane gods who will be forgotten in the footsteps of those who need no masters but the wisdom of a living earth and their own souls .
I dream almost every night, and for the past 3 months I’ve tried with a reasonable success rate to write down what happens when I’m asleep. This means that a black leather book lives beside my bed, it’s heart filled with tiny scribbles of varying legibility, the messages running the gamut from seemingly symbol-Laden- probable gibberish, to complex storylines that feel like ghosts around the edges of my waking life.
I write down my dreams in this book while my brain is in that hazy, San Francisco Fog State between asleep and awake so I often have to go back and rewrite when fully awake. I feel like one’s brain starts to forget what happens in dream worlds very quickly so it’s important to do it as soon as possible.
Some patterns have emerged. I’ll highlight a few of them.
- I dream about fully fleshed – out people with names. Sometimes I know them, often I don’t.
- I dream about sex with women. (don’t we all)
- I dream in muted colours
- I have no idea what my face looks like, but I am very small, my hands remain the same: long, thin, and boney. Sometimes I am aware of my hair, which is long and in my way
- I dream the same dreams often . Some of these dreams have been recurring since I was a child.
- There are, so far as I can see, 5 worlds that are connected to each other but don’t exist in the same time. They seem to be connected with a subway line of sorts that I can exit at any point, and the train is also a part of different times. My real-life fascination with fashion seems to mean that my brain is created wardrobe as an identifier for time-period.The worlds are as follows :
- An apartment where a number of people who reoccur in these dreams live. I don’t know how many floors it has but it seems endless and is More or less in the present. Sometimes there’s a fire pit in the common area. It’s very gray and always night.
- My own childhood time-period,during the late summer.
- A junkyard (I guess) but in a sort of soup ladle shape, basically hanging in nothingness.
- The weird-ass Subway
- An old west construct.(this makes no sense because I have zero attachment to the Olde West, western films,ect. Even while I’m having the dream, I feel like “wtf is this corny ass shit”.
- Somewhere that that feels very old, is slightly cold but not so cold that I am uncomfortable, and has no noticeable buildings. I have been inside structures on this world, but I couldn’t tell you what they look like from the outside. This is the one that bothers me because when I’m awake I feel like I remember it randomly and it makes me feel as that I’m out of time. It seems to be nothing but trees and cliffs and I feel very very small, physically.
Some other noticeable patterns are these:( at this point I’m going to point out that I practice lucid dreaming so I have decent amount of control in some situations. I’m not great at it and I’m off and lazy and don’t try to use it)
- So many crows, why all the crows. Who invited those assholes.
- I am completely capable of using the internet in my dreams. Or at least my phone. I don’t see the face of it or anything but I know that I’m using it
- Sometimes there are clear messages that are just one sentence. Sometimes these repeat themselves and they always make no sense within the context of what’s Happening
- The most noticeable is this. I am helping people in my dreams. I am always helping people do something, find something, get somewhere, Etc. Sometimes I know them, usually I don’t. And often times it’s something sad. I realized this a long time ago: That often the dreams that I dream don’t feel like my own. They feel like something I am doing for someone else, whether or not I want to.
I’ll write more about this later. But I wanted to get the outline of how I’m dreaming out there first before writing about this further here. This probably seems strange to you, all this listening to what happens when I’m asleep but as long as I can remember I have been dreaming dreams that that are big and strange and pointed and recurring.
Its 6:30 right now and I’m slightly jet-lagged. I desperately want to grind coffee but I also don’t want to wake up Alvin who is so peacefully asleep in the other room. I think I’ll probably just poked my head in there and see if he’s on his phone or not and if he is, then all bets are off. I’m grinding. It’s the second day of the new year, and I’m wishing that you’re having the best start to your year possible , and maybe, maybe, I’m dreaming about you.