Sunday, October 03, 2010
The interior of my deterioration
Every night lately I've been having vivid dreams which I remember. Dreams I used to forget. Lucid random electronic synapses that the brain uses to entertain itself during sleep. These dreams are the usual off kilter activities. Things that should work either don't work or work abnormally. Maybe it's my subconscious telling me, warning me, that I should be more wary of stress I'm repressing. Or here's a thought I just came up with. Maybe these dreams are doing to my brain what tears do through my eyes. Maybe they're leaching toxins from my soul.
As I write this, the memories of these dreams are fading into blank.
I sit here in the dark on my sofa. I should be asleep but I'm exhilarated to be draining thought. Like standing and throwing my arms upward and back. Tossing away thought that should concern me. Everyday worry that will be back in the morning, but not right now. Now is my time to show brash bravado. To dare a world I know won't answer right now, but later will come down like a thumb.
The best of my plans fall short lately. I'm in a hurry to get there like a child. But there's no there out there anymore. I want to run off to see friends, female friends, but the plan in my mind, the daydream, are laid to waste whenever I get close. Some beckon and call but we seem to live in opaque bubbles and though are bubbles my come close or even bump into each other, we remain unable to see and isolated.
Why can't people see what I see? Why can't they trust what I trust? I've had two people tell me others told them. So I cut loose and shake my head. Focus on what you see, not what you fear.
I just had a ghost brush by and turn around. It's still here but they never show themselves to me. They just let me feel they're there. Now it's gone.
Be patient, I'll get there. It just might take a little longer now. And for those who passed me by, you're at the back of the line again. I've always had this fault, this flaw, where people are more important to me than I am to them. That's okay though. I'm a forgiving sort.
Maybe because it's not that big a deal to worry myself with.
Did I ghost really brush by you? I had one visit me the other night. It had been a long time since I felt a presence. It didn't scare me, but it did make me very uncomfortable.
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