6:19 AM :That’s sleeping in for me. Crawl to the laptop and its hard to keep my eyes open. The coffee maker is crackling. I just dreamt that I murdered an old friend and oddly thats not shocking and I’m just exited how real the night city-scape was in my subconscious mind. So surreal and I definitely had no idea I was dreaming: asking friends for help to cover up the murder. I cant remember exactly what he did but it was enough for us to bash his skull in. Blood stained memory cards taken by homicide investigators as I take cover in the night> Maybe this post is too much for the morning… I made a poetry slam video called: Dreams/Every Night because I dream every night and they are usually extremely realistic and often profound. Obviously there was more to the dream than the murder and thats why I brought it up. As I sat in the car going to pick up stolen evidence on the murder case; the lights and the city and the traffic just seemed “too real” more real than the concious world we live in. I came to the conclusion that this city was somes ort of duplicate (technically it was) I began to drive frantically through the alleys unsure where I was going DUMBFOUNDED BY SUBCONCIOUS IMAGERY left, right, left right. I come into a dead end… 6:19 AM: Thats sleeping in for me. Crawl to the laptop and try to keep my eyes open…
COFFEE IS READY!
It’s 5 am in the city I call home. The usual wake up time and I’m remembering my dreams as I do every night; a more fluid world….slightly terrified simply because my vivid dream world is so different to the real world I wake up to. It takes me 45 minutes to aclimatise to the new energies coming into my psyche and today it was overwhelming.
Writing is something I do as soon as I get up, they say the subconscious mind is still active. Perfect for the creative type. I have my coffee and peace of mind as the words I create slowly fill the screen. Writing gives me peace of mind. It also gives me peace of mind to be in love and fully transitioned into the woman I am today. I feel lucky.
I have an extroverted mind yet there’s a side of me attached to my lonesome creative or playful alone time; the introverted side important for my growth as a person. I hate writing about myself in a sense because usually when I come back to it I’m either disappointed in myself or something doesn’t quite feel right. On the other hand if I write in completely positive pretext about my life and situations it seems to make me happy to look back to myself standing strong in the face of danger.
Today is amazing.
Dream train to sublime bliss in nirvana
with euphoric melodies echoing at the station
While fesh rain hitting the hot concrete smell fills the air;
a Journey to the new world; I can imagine
Standing on my tippy toes atop mount Everest,
laughing with the Gods.