i'm just about to go to bed after an amazing weekend.
i feel revived. even though it's hot, some may say it's oppressive... i am fresh. and alive. and quite content.
i have the serious intention to do many things, and do them well. and i mean really well. how i will manage to, well i haven't quite worked that out yet. but i shall. and when i do, man, things are going to be pretty amazing.
rest, now.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
it is asleep
i had dreams about dropping things again. like cereal boxes with liquid inside them, and just as they slip i jolt awake. now my ribs hurt when i breathe in, or move in an odd manner.
here lies the grave of... who shall we say? my little brain, lifting the secret layers and finding a less than comfortable place to rest for one night (and one night only), i realize i have missed the full moon. here lies incessant warmth that is sweaty and deep in the night-time, i fall asleep earlier than i did because my energy has been used up. this is the way of the human.
so here lies your body, and mine, and we are free from pretense most of the time. but when you are asleep i wonder what you dream, and when you are asleep you can't encase yourself in ideas of yourself, when you are asleep or even half-asleep you will be like a book if only i could work out how to open you. come on. it doesn't take much.
here in the light that pulses through the porthole of a window i am just a body. last night i was more. i can feel the ache in my back, in my ribs, i can see the light alter as the clouds roll in. i am listening to you grumble and moan in your sleep, i am listening to you breathe. i am a whole human with sensory experience, and last night i was not. last night i was something slightly bigger, well a lot bigger, than you realize. i fell downwards, felt the jolt when i dropped you, i fell up. my eyes closed again, i fell back down. it was rain, then. one single droplet speedily and unknowingly descending to the earth to be absorbed and to dream of tree roots and dinosaur bones. i was rain, then. more than one. a whole cloud's bounty. it was lighting, friction of energyon energy onskinresonating on - sitting whole and circular feeling nothing but childlike excitement and fear for the force that (soundsurroundyou) you are when you sleep
my wrists are smaller, now. if i could record what i say in my sleep, my nocturnal (subconscious cognitive) emissions, i would find nothing that would make sense to me while i am awake. for now sensations reign over all else. in waking life. i want to kiss, touch, eat, hear, i have friends and loves and passions and circles to create and condense into. in my sleep i venture unknowingly in the opposite direction (or utterly knowing?), outwards, with no boundary lines or hints or clothing. no smells to trigger memories of
lying in a bathtub in a foreign country looking out the french doors onto a mountain that overwhelms you, at peace you miss some things but otherwise feel good;
cutting fruits like kiwi and apple and dipping them in henna and chinese ink to print onto pieces of paper that may be slightly too thin but it doesn't matter, it's his house, and isn't he so affectionate and good to cuddle up to;
combinationbodies. like locks they have to twist and try to bend and break and breathe into each other, once the right key is discovered amongst the rubble of past endeavours something will (click) make sense, feel right, combinationscents, instinct kicks in and the door/safe/treasurechest is open.
but none of that exists outside of conscious thought. there is only out, not in. you aren't even interested in opening that little thing because outside and around it is infinite exploratory potential and the thought doesn't even cross your mind because how could it? you are not thinking. it is rain, then. it is the eye and the ear of the storm (amongst other analogies). it is not a sense, or a single object but a force. an emotion, or a pulse. a layer that is not like an (objectyourecognize) but a (cosmic echo). okay so maybe you do recognize it. a solar system, or a gobstopper. onion, maybe. it's not important.
the longer i spend wondering instead of giving sensation attention, the more my back hurts. it demands it. i suppose i should go and have some breakfast.
here lies the grave of... who shall we say? my little brain, lifting the secret layers and finding a less than comfortable place to rest for one night (and one night only), i realize i have missed the full moon. here lies incessant warmth that is sweaty and deep in the night-time, i fall asleep earlier than i did because my energy has been used up. this is the way of the human.
so here lies your body, and mine, and we are free from pretense most of the time. but when you are asleep i wonder what you dream, and when you are asleep you can't encase yourself in ideas of yourself, when you are asleep or even half-asleep you will be like a book if only i could work out how to open you. come on. it doesn't take much.
here in the light that pulses through the porthole of a window i am just a body. last night i was more. i can feel the ache in my back, in my ribs, i can see the light alter as the clouds roll in. i am listening to you grumble and moan in your sleep, i am listening to you breathe. i am a whole human with sensory experience, and last night i was not. last night i was something slightly bigger, well a lot bigger, than you realize. i fell downwards, felt the jolt when i dropped you, i fell up. my eyes closed again, i fell back down. it was rain, then. one single droplet speedily and unknowingly descending to the earth to be absorbed and to dream of tree roots and dinosaur bones. i was rain, then. more than one. a whole cloud's bounty. it was lighting, friction of energyon energy onskinresonating on - sitting whole and circular feeling nothing but childlike excitement and fear for the force that (soundsurroundyou) you are when you sleep
my wrists are smaller, now. if i could record what i say in my sleep, my nocturnal (subconscious cognitive) emissions, i would find nothing that would make sense to me while i am awake. for now sensations reign over all else. in waking life. i want to kiss, touch, eat, hear, i have friends and loves and passions and circles to create and condense into. in my sleep i venture unknowingly in the opposite direction (or utterly knowing?), outwards, with no boundary lines or hints or clothing. no smells to trigger memories of
lying in a bathtub in a foreign country looking out the french doors onto a mountain that overwhelms you, at peace you miss some things but otherwise feel good;
cutting fruits like kiwi and apple and dipping them in henna and chinese ink to print onto pieces of paper that may be slightly too thin but it doesn't matter, it's his house, and isn't he so affectionate and good to cuddle up to;
combinationbodies. like locks they have to twist and try to bend and break and breathe into each other, once the right key is discovered amongst the rubble of past endeavours something will (click) make sense, feel right, combinationscents, instinct kicks in and the door/safe/treasurechest is open.
but none of that exists outside of conscious thought. there is only out, not in. you aren't even interested in opening that little thing because outside and around it is infinite exploratory potential and the thought doesn't even cross your mind because how could it? you are not thinking. it is rain, then. it is the eye and the ear of the storm (amongst other analogies). it is not a sense, or a single object but a force. an emotion, or a pulse. a layer that is not like an (objectyourecognize) but a (cosmic echo). okay so maybe you do recognize it. a solar system, or a gobstopper. onion, maybe. it's not important.
the longer i spend wondering instead of giving sensation attention, the more my back hurts. it demands it. i suppose i should go and have some breakfast.
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