Dream 11/17/2010

I woke up on a grassy field with some retamians. I was drunk the night before but couldn't remember a thing. Apparently, the guy I woke up next to, I had sex with the night before while drunk. So I freak out a little.
~
Then, Will gets all demon possessed and puts white paint on a bunch of people covering their face, hands and feet. So, we end up chasing him. I chase him into a ten story high school. The high school is really maze like, and I get lost. At one point I end up in the library and am able to find my way from there. Finally we exit the building through some sort of deeply sunken back door. I am with a few retamians again and we have caught up with demon Will. I rebuke the demon inside him, which leaves instantly. Unfortunately, the moment the demon leaves, Will's body crumbles into nothing and his spirit and soul, which are still alive, sink into a patch of dirt. I then pray, mark the patch of dirt then breath on it. I pray again. As I am praying, a body rises from the dirt fully clothed. Will is inside this body, and it is now him. The body, however, is much different than what he previously had. It was smaller, skinnier and more lanky. He had a skinny face with a small chin all covered in freckles and long richly colored orangeish reddish brown hair.
~
The Dream moves on. I am in the same metropolis that the high school skyscraper was located. For some reason the city is quickly flooding. I run up the stairs of a tall building onto the roof. from there, I jump from building to building until I reach a building with tall bleachers on the top with lots of people their taking refuge. They seem to feel safe there, for what flood would cover a twenty plus story building? right? After I scramble to the top of the bleachers, I look around to consider my options. The water level is already more than half way up the build i am on, which means there is no guarantee that this place is safe. Too one side I consider the tallest building in the city. It is the tallest point, and if any place is going to be above the water, it would be that building. If i went there, I would be stranded in that one building. If this ended up being a long term thing, i might have trouble with food. To the other side, at the edge of the city, is a ridge with a few architecturally detailed stone buildings on top of it. Though well above the tops of most of the buildings, it is not quite as tall as the skyscraper. I decide to go there since more available buildings meant more chance of available food, so I jump from building top to building top and arrive at the location of my next dream.
~
I am at a large stone house with a big courtyard. i am staying with my master there in the guest house. In the dream I often analogize us to the main characters from Around the World in 80 Days. My master hands me an important contract to file. I hand the document to an inferior servant to file. While filing, an important man which is also staying at the house, approaches the servant, and tricks the servant into handing him the document. Suddenly, the man thinks that the contract is his and entitles him to all of my masters belongings. I rush to the owner of the house, who is an attorney, and tell him about my problem. The attorney sits in his office academically trying to calculate whether the contract rightfully belongs to the important man or not. Frustrated, I walk back out into the courtyard. There I see all of my master's belongings in boxes covering the courtyard. There are a bunch of people sorting and cataloging the materials. My master stays in his room, pretending not to care. One of the sorters sticks out to me. She goes through a door, and I follow. She is standing in a room with metal walls holding a clip board. To her left, against the wall, is a large alarm box full of switches and lights. The room as the feeling of being outside of time and space, kinda like the back doors in The Matrix. I tell her my problem. She looks at me, then the dream ends. Or this is how it went all the previous time I dreamt it.
This time the differences were as follows. My master is my grandfather. My character is identified as me specifically. The inferior servant is my little brother. After I leave the attorney's office, I don't just sit frustrated. Instead, i come to the obvious solution, that the contract wasn't Benjamin's to give away in the first place. The sorting girl is identifiable as Charity. She is wearing the pj's she was wearing the last time had visited her apartment. In the room, I not only tell her the problem, but the solution as well. Instead of just looking at me, she moves over to the alarm box and flips several of the switches triggering an alarm. The alarm seemed to call several people to the room. About half a dozen people. Two of them are a very young George Douglas and Ronald Regan well before their administration. they sit down in the room and start discussing. Ronald leads the discussion. First they discuss a flaw a poem written by a famous poet. They say that they will need to change the poem. One of them says, "do you know how many points in time we are going to have to influence to cover the change?" like it would be a big task. Ronald says, "It'll be just like that one time with the clock." Grandfather laughs and says "yes the clock" as if remembering some kind notable event or adventure. They move on to my issue eventually. I explain to them that I've been having this same dream a couple times a year for the past few years. (I don't remember having these dreams now that I'm awake. In my dream, I definitely remembered them, that is why I can now recite the original version) I also note to them that Charity wearing the pjs means the happenings in the dream are related to something in the very near future, or even now.

Prose ~What is the price of being who we are?~

Wouldn’t it be cool if we shed our self-imposed limits?
If all that we are could be released
We are locked by consequence
The fear of where who we are would lead
What it would destroy
What treasure it would throw from us
That is why we hide behind costumes and dance
The purest of us peaks shyly behind the veil of restraint
Only a piece may show, all else is a farce
Yet we are hungry
We are hungry for others to see ourselves and to truly know those that we love
We are hungry for the very thing we fight against.

Ripping away the costume left raw to what truly mattered
It is a wonder how little is left
Now to no longer live in self deception
But to search for an answer to the confusion
Yet the veil must remain
Or else risk what little is left.

If you wish to see what is behind the veil
Be prepared for what may be underneath
For every diamond is coated in the most repulsive refuse
Will truth create miles?
Or will it create strength
Will it drive to emptiness?
Or bring to life the deepest bonds of friendship.

If you wish to see who I am
I’ll leave the choice to you
Just don’t be surprised if you find yourself drifting away.

Heart Vomit, Written: July 17, 2009

I struggle now, though my struggle be lazy. I listen and look. I look for love. I wonder, who have I made me? Who has God made me? Loneliness, true loneliness, is the absence of love. I am lonely. It is not the loneliness of a single boy in his late teens. It is the loneliness of one who is meant to be surrounded and supported by his own kind but is not. All that surrounds me is a crowd of dolls with empty eyes. I realize that this is not their fault. It is mine. Those 'empty' eyes are only a reflection of my own emptiness. They are dolls because I turned them into dolls. Through my lies and manipulation, they became nothing but toys, detached and inhuman. Some say that i have built walls around me. It is not walls but moats. I have dug these moats so deep that when I am done, and I wish to get out, I find that I can't. All I need is someone to throw me a rope. i see people who know I am in trouble. They wish to help, but they don't understand. They are looking for walls, so that they can find a gate and open it, like they do with everyone else. Unfortunately, I am not enclosed by walls. I am trapped in a moat that i dug. The old helpers look hopeless, so I turn to fresh people. Through a global network i spill my heart. Does no one see? Do they not hear my plea in my words. They treat my words as creative writing. They praise it or critique it. It is not creativity! It is my heart! Yet all they do is goggle at me. The ones who knew me, without exception, rejected me. I have thrown them away. The ones who I know can't find me. The ones who meet me can't see me. Who am I?

Poem ~I Love you because it's you~

I love your hair
If you shaved it all off, I’d still love you
I love your freckles
If you lost all your skin, I’d still love you
You are fun as hell
If you were in a coma, I’d still love you
I love your smile
If you hated me, I’d still love you
I love it when you are near
If you left this universe, I’d still love you
I love everything about you
Because you are always you, I’ll always love you

Prose ~What is Truly Important~

The priceless jewels are nothing but stones.
All the money in the world is nothing but numbers.
All that is, is only what value is taken from it.
No material holds value.
Life holds no value in itself.
It's value lays in what will be missed if life is lost.
The only value this life holds is in love.
Do we even know what love is anymore?
Love is more than a human concept.
It is more than how we treat each other.
It is more than the chemical reactions in regard to those around us.
No wonder people are loosing belief in love.
It is difficult to believe in something when one doesn't even know what it is.
Love is a tangible thing. It is the power that allows us to live. Love is the essence of life.
Love is also the medium for existence. Nothing can exist with out love.
Love is alive.
Love is not dependent on the laws of the universe.
Love is the only true law in this universe. All other constants are rooted in love.
The core of every human is made of love.

This is how a life can be nothing. In the absence of love, there is nothing.
That is why my life has nothing but the love that is in it.

Nother heart vomit ~You can have everything but what you want~

I should probably see a shrink
Oh no, Jony, you shouldn’t say that! Being mentally stable is part of your image. Showing any sign of instability will ruin that!
Well I don’t give a shit anymore.
A blank canvas, how nice, so much potential.
Works great when you don’t have any paint!
You could be rich and famous so easily. You can make plans to do anything, be anybody. You can have anything.
I can’t care anymore. There are only two things I care about anymore, and their names are Rexrode. The only real friends I have, or ever had for that matter. All else is materialistic crap.

Heart Vomit/ Poem, Written: March 8, 2010

Only God could have sent such a treasure
To whom no angel’s beauty is fit to be compared,
The light streams from your eyes in all fullness
With a depth that no other light may share,
Every motion is like a symphony of awesomeness,
Every word carries in it the power to move hearts and minds,
Soothing, inspiring, dancing and amusing
So is your song as cannot be put to language.

There is always more in you,
Selah my heart for what you cannot reach
There is a truth here that lies nowhere else
The tingle of the fire, so engulfing of all the soul

You are the peace of the tide
Breathing in an over-washing power
Singing in peace,
Thriving in the light of sun,
You are also what lives within you
Living in you is the joy of the laughing dolphin
The play of the sea lion
The grace of the orca
The color of the queen triggerfish
And the curiousness of the leafy sea-dragon

Heart Vomit, Written: November 23, 2009

that which is sweet, sing softly to me. As I think of love, my heart swells and yet it aches. I miss you already. You may see me. I now have to wait, wait for turmoil or death, even in a small form.

I pray then that i will be able to save you and revive you beyond all that you are. Pulse with me, and I'll show you life, I'll show you love. Strengthen me and I'll strengthen you. I'll always strengthen you. No matter my recompense. “All i ever wanted was you” I hear it. I redirect it to my own.

Let me hold you, as you have and more. Let me be tender. I'll work for thy best in any way I can. I'll aways strive, no matter what lays in my way. I will persist through it all. Love births the fiercest of determination. Don't worry. I'll only do what is best for you. It's not about me, all about you. That is how it truly works. You don't have to love me. I'll love you. I'll do what is necessary, even if it means removing myself.

The wind of it fills in my chest. I come to give you love in whatever form. Please receive it. Receive it in any form you will. I wait to hold you again in all your energy, in all your peace. You smiled as I said it. You ask for it in one form. I give it. Will you take it in another? I will not force it on you, but oh how my heart aches for a love without holding back. You see me. But, how? Is it through a tinted glass. Am I ever doomed to remain just your friend. I will remain your friend; yet i wish to be your lover. I wish to hold you with all the love I have for you. In a way both strong and tender I wish to hold you. I have been contented so far to show it only in little restrained streams. I wonder if you saw it. The tenderness for you. The way I looked at you. The way I spoke.

I will love you with all my heart, whatever It means.

Heart Vomit/ Poem ~ Nothing

Words nothing
Intelligence nothing
Waiting kills
Assertion destroys
Strength nothing
Actions nothing
Truth is lifeless
While lies burn
I tired of emptiness
I’m tired of waiting
I’m tired of hunger
I’m tired of reaching
I’m tired of fighting
Yet giving in yields nothing
All there is, is nothing
All there ever has been is nothing
Nothing but disappointment
Nothing but tolerance
Nothing but a polite smile that gives nothing
Who I am is not here
Who I’m not is false
I scream silently
No one hears me
How does one break who they are
If there is nothing to break
How does one embrace who they are
If there is nothing to embrace
If love is everything
Then where is the love?

Poem ~ Starry Child

I wrote this one in my sleep during the night. It took me three days to figure out what I meant by it.

Black beads
Granules, all unique
The pain by them is by the inflicted
Only amplified by their own attributes
Amongst the unstable, the tolerate, and the blind
Is found finally a little life
A broken grub that may now be mine

Oh little child, what is this I see
Quivering in your scar-less palm
Look around to what may be
To the brighter treasures others have found

How may the young one speak
Of the nature of the bright spectacles
Of the playful hunt of the other youth
Of the treasures they hardly cherish
That these are but granules too

The salt, bright and clear
Cleans its way through
Off the chin
Cleans its way into the hand
The little grub drinks it in
The child cries,
“I cannot play with you”
and sets him in the earth again

Dry eyes look around
For the food of the elder’s words

The golems dance to the most ancient modern tune
Singing “We love you, we hate you too”
Was a brief painting, quickly cracked
This heart did try to move for a time
Yet the tears return again too soon

Where, oh marionettes, can your love be found?
In the acid, and the weakness of the air
Oh how you dance, there must be life in thee
We are but dusty stone
Our life is just the breath of a song
In our burning dust, you must share
So that you may too be only what you sing

So shadows may desolate
So they may destroy the security of warmth
The only proof of the day
Is in the silvery curve carved in the sky

Oh little child, what is this you see
Shimmering by the moon
There is a starry child
calling toward you

How may the young one speak
Of the beauty in her song
Of how it makes him long
Of the way it is wrong
She does not call for him

Little grub, your brother shines
May that I know him too
He is brought much glory by the one
That he is calling to

And so the ocean flows and ebbs
For the child’s burning wish
Fills a balloon worn and ripped

He lays there, in the crumbling dirt
Waiting for the starry child
She dances with them to the golems’ song
Her life is real, for her love is wrought
For the glowing being she has made
In her arms as they embrace
And the child looks on

Poem ~ Ancient Worries

As all weather blows its breath
as every creature lays in eternal rest
as all things strive to thrive
as all things strive to die

May we in our spirits hold
the silent dance of the old
that tells of joys and travails
that tells of how love prevails

May all that the spirits have given
bind together the broken
to live through every burning sorrow
that we may live to see tomorrow
and bring love to life again

This is what we're doing

Though this blog may include journal entries, especially those concerning dreams, The main focus of this blog will be to post the Various tittles i may create (Poems, short stories, heart vomits, love letters, etc.)