Excerpts from last night’s dream:
Spoke spanish, a little bit…and maybe nonsense. scored weed from a beautiful blonde eight year old girl, who’s mother told her I ought to have it. a little nugglet, but which multiplied in my pocket so I had to keep giving it away to avoid discomfort. played music for a man who cleared the room (a gymnasium), and stood behind me while I learned how to repair the broken neck of a guitar in order to make the notes ring true. looked up at the milky way, real milky for a city sky, and with stars moving by in faster than real time. loads of shooting stars. wishes made and fulfilled instantly. an archway. A wine tasting at a LGBTQ gathering that was quite a bit more raucous than most wine tasting (think Folsom). Hotel rooms.
personal favorite: In real life, I have had a little cyst thing on my leg. In dream life I squeezed. a little hair came out, tweezer pulled. more of an impacted hair came out..pulled more, and a blade of grass was attached, pulled more and it was a whole grass plant root and all. I planted it into the ground immediately.
saw my pops. said thank you. got/gave a hug.
sat down to roll a spliff with him, woke up.
Our dream states are looks into ourselves. I see no other good explanation. The random firing of neurons seems a cop-out. I never feel a drive toward guiding or “lucid” dreaming, as the ride is interesting enough without the interference of forced flying. I have no conscious questions to ask my unconscious mind that are not already being answered. There are some times for asking and some times for listening. I am constantly reminding myself that this goes for waking life as well. Let it unfold, let it teach, let it happen. Maybe we are always awake, or always dreaming? No matter, it is all perspective.
Here is my bookshelf. love you.