I dreamt of a Romantic escape. The home out in the distance. Up in the hills. With my wife. How can some thing so hard to describe be ubiquitous??
It is too sacred to be ubiquitous.
####### and I shall be together.
It is time. Just like the Oracle said:
I won't be alone.
I love my self.
Any one who obstructs this will be gone from sight.
Dm.A.A.
Dream 2: Still hard to remember, but vivid. Very vivid.
An adolescent male rivalry perceived through the lens of a child. Very Harry Potter.
All so I awoke within a state of Angst. Two men, one young and one old, were about to be -- or had been -- castrated. I had to argue that I was not one of them.
Dm.A.A.
"One-sidedness, while it lends
Momentum, is a mark of barbarism."
C.G. Jung.
Dream Three:
The narrative continues. Every body prospers. At least every one who's on my side. The dream is set pre-
Dominantly after night-fall. It takes on all the excitement of Debate, of adolescence, of the Chase, of plotting for my future with Alanna, getting Isaiah's help in our security, as I wander lost at night in Carlsbad during the Debate Tournament at their High School, I.A.L. Yet what SPECIFICALLY I dreamt about is hard to re-collect. However, I do now re-
Call a day-time situation wherein I get to show-case My Art. Playing the key-
Board -- el teclado. It was a small enough venue. Really it was more of a talent show. It was held within a class-room of some sort with very plain blue, sterile-feeling walls.
I must have wondered what went on in other parts of this great building. I tried in-
Vestigating. But I found nothing. Or so at least it Seemed. Yet I was not convinced.
Dm.A.A.
Dream Four: Kafkaesque.
That's both the title of this entry and the description. It draws upon the cliff-hanger I left off on whilst watching Breaking Bad yesterday.
And that sums up last night's dream as well. No sign yet of %%%%%%% • Just a lot of paper-
Work, not literally so much as in the sense that it evoked that feeling.
It's the feeling that I get from Elite SAT cards and from feminists: it is the Negative Anima.
I've felt it on my way to Joann Fabrics and waiting for the awards at Grossmont College. It was set predominantly in sterile, gray rooms : the dwelling of not just a 'grown-up' nor a 'Square', but one who's sold one's Soul. And whether or not one Knows the nature of this sale makes no difference. Murder and man-
Slaughter are distinct only bureaucratically. In that case, it is 'worse' to know. But ignorance is nonetheless the greatest evil.
Towards the end of it, Kresten and I were all but reconciled, best friends. I even felt em-
Barassed, trying to explain it all away as I am doing now.
Yet that is not meant to invalidate my explanation;
This same fear is rational,
And it's misguided. I still hate him, with due cause.
I did not know I was sleeping. Had I been lucid,
What he represented would have made a world of sense.
Waking up from that dream woke me up from him. What he now re-presented was obvious:
Last night the last thing that I did, after I placed the Seahorse Totem at the head of my bed, was to watch again Nichole's video talking about Scorpio and how one can seduce one.
Though I'd heard the words many times before, having seen this same video time and again, there was still enough new and vital information to be found that I could be en-
Lightened and convinced that it had not been confirmation bias. It was like Jane from Breaking Bad would come to say about Art:
that it changes every time.
I thought of all my fears of selling out to Kresten as I followed him up to his damned apartment. Now that I record this it dawns on me what this all means...
I was thinking of this re-
Conciliation as I placed my hand upon the car parked outside: his car. I then followed him into the building,
Past the gates, and up a set of stairs.
It all ways had been ROB's apartment.
Dm.A.A.
Dream Five: A more perfect record than
Expected.
Again, hard to remember. This time I did not toss my totem upon waking. That is not allegedly a cause for the loss of memory, but it IS an effect of a common cause: So rampant an involvement with-
IN the dream herself that any attempt made consciously at sealing the memory would have seemed intrusive,
At least a priori. A posteriori I cannot say, since I did not try.
I am beginning to remember more clearly. This one was set at the Aquarium again. I was gaining agency. The game had grown. It had spread to the realm of fantasy,
My new term, as of now, for the setting for both childhood dreams and dreams from 2013.
I must be ready to produce a film.
Dm.A.A.
But by 'produce', do I mean fund?
And if so, then is 'must' a statement not of fact but of imperative?
Either I AM ready to MAKE a film, or I SHOULD *GET* ready to fund one. The other two [a priori] 'possibilities', that of Being-
Ready-to fund a film or that of Needing-to make one,
Are impossible a posteriori.
Dm.A.A.
My goals for tonight:
• rid my self of all Kresten and Andrew Karma that is not conducive to the calm develop-
Ment of My Art.
• Engage +++++++ in conversation about strategies for her own seduction by me.
• map a course for my New Life.
Dm.A.A.
An imperative cannot be excessive if it is necessary towards the preservation of well-being, be-
Cause any set of circumstances that impinge upon well-being are excessive.
Dm.A.A.
i. De-construct the persona.
ii. Unlevel.
iii. Make concrete.
iv. Come to your senses.
v. Dream like you're awake.
vi. Live like life's a dream.
vii. HEAL.
Dm.A.A.
Dream Six:
It worked. Sort of.
Three women visited my dream last night. The first was a Hispanic girl who all so happened to be a Scorpio. I was using her to 'get to' •••••••. She visited my home one night, and we spent most of the time in a bed-
Room shared by my ROOM-
mates. Yet after some time it became clear that she wanted to be Alone with me,
in the next room, and I gathered why. True to form, when we were alone she made her move. We made out, but my heart was made heavy by the fact that she was talking with enthusiasm about our future. It was around this moment that I realised that I was [probably] dreaming. I stepped out of the bedroom,
After asking permission of her,
Wished strongly to see •••••••,
And stepped back in. Yet the Hispanic girl was still there,
Anticipant and curious. I could not tell whether I was dreaming or not, and I dared not utter •••••••'s name in THIS girl's presence. Even doing so in dream seemed like a bad idea. So I simply sat down and tried to visualise ••••••• as I stared deeply yet disinterestedly into Esmeralda's eyes. It worked. I was soon looking into •••••••'s eyes. I did not hesitate to plant a kiss upon her lips. She was still blurry and elusive.
May be all lucidity is so.
May be lucidity is coveted by those who Know not clarity.
May be that's why Andrew 'raped' people in his dreams. Or may be 'rape' is just his word for Willfull Manifestation...
Later I stepped out of the room again.
I still could not tell whether I was awake or sleeping. Stepping back inside I found an other girl waiting for me. She was plain and un-
Interesting by comparison. I must have wondered if this truly had been lucidity, or if I was simply visited by three versions of my Anima.
A large group of radicals, my self encluded, were engaged in a revolution. We were outdoors,
Situated in what could most be said to resemble a Peking Temple in its prime. Yet the place was flooding. A substantial portion of my crew barely escaped from under the roof of a mouth-
Shaped entrance. I had to swim ahead of the rest of them just to ensure my survival.
It was clear to all of us that
'No man left behind' was a privileged attitude that WE could not afford, yet if my hopes were true then it was all so our outcome.
An other part of the dream was set upon a University Campus. This must have been San Diego State University. The plentitude of uncommon and new imagery, coupled with my brief success in harnessing lucidity, in-
Dicate that my life is changing for the best. It is, like one hexagram says, riding an accelerated path towards self-actualisation, or some thing to that affect.
Dm.A.A.
BOOM: I got precisely that same hexagram.
42. Expansion. 'Get ready to ride a tide of accelerated growth toward self-
Actualisation.'..
Dream # Seven:
All that I recall, and all I mean to,
is an episode at a laboratory. It was a bleak institution, cramped and common as a Charter School or a Community College Campus.
This lab was on the far side of a desolate building that reminds me now of Palomar's Escondido Campus, where I had my writing 'class' and finished, in surpassing calm, a great deal of my screen-play for KALEIDO-
SCOPE, I.A.L.
This was such a distant corner that the door behind me, not unlike the door into the DRAWING CLASSROOM on the [Palomar] S.M. campus, could and would lead out to the [back] walk way, which could lead me past a set of desolate apartments (stoner adolescence) Straight into one of the UPPER STORIES of the Shopping Mall Town.
This same door, I.A.L, was the one I took for the first time when I had to hunt Heather down in order to correct her in her great passive aggression • To put it lightly: I had to CORRECT her passive-
Aggressive ass, and this turn of phrase actually captures that moment's mood perfectly, for it was just that light. I'd like to say that it's my mood at present, and it is so,
though I can not say how long it may last or that it was so upon that distant day I.A.L.
I left a notebook that detailed my love for ======= • there were just two laboratory students present; I was not one of them.
I crept away softly. They began to close in. My message was left, at their mercy. I can but hope to place my faith in their in-quisitiveness, and that such faith is good. Yet even now, as I think to vindicate my self by unriddling the Dreamer of Dreams, who after all cast Science Students (in an Art Room) and not forgetful pigs,
Still I recall the voice of Mochi Liu,
Scoffing at my work in taking dreams so seriously. Does this invalidate the Dreamer? No. Yet it certainly re-enforces my disdain and my distrust of college students[, especially those] in the sciences.
Dm.A.A.
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