Depleting Urgency

Gotta get to school. Gonna be late. Gotta get to school. Got a big test today. Driving as fast as I can. Gonna get a ticket. Are those flashing lights in my mirror? Just reflections of the sun and traffic lights. Speeding. I have no choice. Gotta get to school. Shoot. A cop is trying to pull me over after all. What do I do. Pull over of course. Why am I even asking myself this question? I am convinced I have good reason and that I'll be let off quickly. Or so I am wishfully thinking. I've gotta go. I am already late. But I can still make it in time to take the test anyway. Wish I could do this later. Just not now. Anytime but now. "I am late and have a very important test to take as we speak." It turns out it is just a patrol person that has captured me, driving merely a cart, like a garden cart. Something you would see on a school campus for maintenance purposes. This is getting real dumb real fast. My life is over. My day is shot. No, I can make it. The "policewoman" listens to my pleas, and escorts me to a real policeman, in his car across the parking lot. He ponders giving me a chance. They take all the time in the world to think, of course, seeing that I am in the hurry of a lifetime. He finally decides to send me to the higher-ups, maybe it is even the highest-up. I enter a nearby building, and find a very long hall, and in the center of that hall is that higher-up I had been anticipating, sitting very judge-like in its position (I cannot tell whether it is a male or female, as if it really mattered at this point. I mean, my life is ruined anyway). It is behind a tall podium, on a raised, staged floor. It is the first thing one unavoidably sees upon entering those front doors. I stand there below the authority, so over life and existence, while my fate is decided by just another human like myself. This fate is finally decided.

What is the decision? I'll never know.

Death by Golf

In a parking lot. Matt's car brought us here, meeting a few others, coming together to play the game of golf. Matt, myself, Kristen, and faceless others engage in this sport. It is much more like mini-golf than true golf, comforting to my inexperienced spirit. But before I get a chance to strike my first golfball, it's time to go. Not for them, but only for me. Lori had arrived, and was taking me home or somewhere hours off, for we were currently at some remote place, by a huge river or ocean of water. She had a new truck. New for us, old in age. As I left the golfing grounds to join her, Kristen couldn't help but loudly say, "We don't want him to play anyway, he sucks at this game." This did not not bother in the least. I climbed in the truck, and listened to Lori talk on and on. "...mom and dad move back to America..." I noticed she was driving a little bit crazy, very unusual for her, and the craziness was quickly progressing. Now drifting! from side to side, in the most unlikely and unpredictable fashions! I reached for my seatbelt, and fastened it tight, "You need to slow down." "No worries." Here we go, sliding from this side of the road to that, facing all the wrong directions, yet somehow working our way in the general intended direction. The road was elevated just above and along the shoreline, about 40 feet up give or take. Sliding too close to the edge...back wheels over the edge! "I got it...oh man!" The look on Lori's face finally turned to terror, finally matching the look on my own. A slide this way, a slide the other, and a slide back, and there the small pick-up went. Over the edge! Control has been lost. A perilous plunge is inevitable. The rear tires followed the front into the air. Boosh! A violent crash against the surface of the deep water. What now? I reach for my seatbelt a second time, to undo the action originally done. Lori quickly tries to reverse the vehicle, but this merely plunged the rear end far into the water. We are near facing the clouds in the sky. I attempt at opening my door, reach for the handle, it is difficult to push open. I fail. It's over. For the both of us.

Panda Party

Urgency. New. Learning. Experience. Comfort. I am the boss, but not in name, simply the one who is there, overseeing and being. Emily Greenhouse...Christian Fry..? Two more female others. We are making food. Maybe Panda, yeah I believe it is in fact Panda Express. Go figure. We are working, but I am nearly not, for I don't work here. There is a party picnic outside, for which we prepare. A series of a blur and here I am, working away, preparing dishes, throwing commands around, and being simply awesome. Everyody loves it. Everybody loves us. They all love me.

Astroboarding

Last night I skated on the stars...or planets...I don't know, it's very vague, but every one had their own planets to make home for themselves. And it was wonderful.


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My dreams have been surprisingly vague lately...which is completely disappointing.

Dreams

What are they?
Where do they come from?
Why are they so strange?
Yet so familiar?
Why are they made up of the images and places and people and events as they are?

This blog will not answer these questions, for no one completely truly can. It may attempt at times. But do not hope for real answers.
No, the purpose here is simply a record, a memoir. It is a hobby of mine to record my dreams, just jotting down a few key words, in hopes of never forgetting the adventures experienced only when lying in a peaceful, unconscious state. That state where your consciousness has moved, from one body in the physical, tangible universe, to another in some unknown land, where things are different, sometimes very different, or not different at all. It is that real place where anything is possible, and nothing is holding anyone back from absolute freedom, a chance to experience something else, alternate lives, alternate situations.

It is that place of else. Other. The extraordinary.

It is my hope that you may enjoy (or taste the fear of, or feel, or experience...) my experiences with me, as I jump out of this reality into another from night to night.