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syntheticdream's blog: "randomness"

created on 02/09/2007  |  http://fubar.com/randomness/b53534

dreams...

So last night held some amazingly vivid dreams. Nothing like normal, and yet following a pattern to a series. It’s strange how they always start out when it’s within the ‘series’, because I always slip into sleep. One moment awake, the next in another world. Almost as if the purest form of transcendence. This was not a normal one per say, the map that I have figured out, well it was nowhere on it that is known (only I know it’s the same place, just far away). The buildings were current with the others, same as the plant life to junction to architecture. But in a far cooler environment, one that was much more temperate. I’m always in a complete disbelief at first walking through almost empty streets, staring at how everything co-exists. Where there are buildings there is an equal amount of life, mainly plant life. It is almost as if not one plant was harmed when making a building, but the plants soon take pace and partially consume human’s achievement. The closest I can say the city reminded me of (or at least one I’ve been to) was Vancouver, except with all the plants around it as said before and much higher in elevation (making it a mountain town, shifting with the grades of earth and not leveling to make things more comfortable). It’s always twilight (my favorite time of the day, one that NEVER last for too long), and the people are restless. I make my way to the subways to get out of town and visit a friend that left for the ‘islands’ (the islands are within the map of my dreams). Oh how the subways have a bitter florescent light, making even the faces of dreams seem a bit more obscure. Drifting on the lines that make up the caved structure of a subway. Sifting there just waiting as the silent subway creeps forward and yet appears before the eye. Now when riding on a train one of the best parts is the fact that is rough and bumpy. As sailing drifts up and down from the waves, riding on a train drifts and pulls on the horizontal. And there was none, took all the fun out of it and every movement as the underground passed by in amazing speed was perfectly still in a captive compartment. Like a phoenix opening its wings, a more natural light came back to the world. A rural sense in the fact that buildings were much smaller and more spread apart. To bring out a mountain meadow unmarked with signs or buildings, only people converging to take on a faster transportation (and for me to get off and mind the gap). Traveling through the field, feeling as relaxing summer day with a slight breeze catching the bumps on my skin and the low grass nipping on the clothes. There was no path only the one in mind to where I needed to go. Finishing to the evergreens as he shadows took pace and the animals brought sound. Noticing how my foot steps would not even leave an impression to the ground, but there was always a slight sound. Leading the way on this path of ‘known’ until a cluster of civilization appeared, almost like a commune that wished never to be noticed. Far apart and untouched, but with people peering at the ends of doors to wonder who had come by. And then there was her home. A gypsy could only wish to have such a permanent residence. Wind lifting and making the multi-colored drapes sway in a breeze that seemed to be a kiss. A mess of how she left seemed almost as if someone ran sacked the place that had no locks. The perfection was in the feeling that she left behind, as if a ghost still roamed. I saw her cat (such a large yellow cat) and petted him for some time as rummaging through her life and taking in the forest outside. I knew she wouldn’t care, maybe even make her happy to find peace within her leaving. That’s when it happened, I broke down in tears. The memories of photographs had not been my life, not even slightly. There was no reason, I gave the cat to a neighbor and felt that I had done what I set out to. Leaving was an adventure; everything seemed as if I was drunk. Even the ground slipped under my feet leaving as I came. There is no true expression to what it feels like when there is a state of absolute nothing, it’s consuming in its gesture alone. But that is what was felt walking to see predators popping their heads up as a noise through a forest. They weren’t hungry, only noticing as something caught their eye. Back to the train/subway as if completely emulsified in its own. Drifting side to side to make up what was no there.
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