Dreams
It's a relief to start dreaming again really. I'm such a heavy sleeper I don't ever remember my dreams, well, not for the past 10/12 years anyway. I can remember maybe two dreams from that period, so to have two in two days is quite nice really. Recording them for posterity.
The first was kind of inspired by my reading both The Conquest of the New World by Bernal Diaz and The Doors of Perception by Aldous Huxley. I was in the middle of a massive forest or jungle and on a road. A massive road that wound through this jungle. There were other people further up or down the road but I was walking by myself. It wound around some buildings and underneath some columns with buildings above I think, there was a large square hole beyond this with what was probably lava there, although the road went past this so you could walk past it and the hole was symbolic, the whole road was symbolic, all the things that were on it. Further up it crossed a river or ran parallell to a river and I could look back and see people walking down the road behind me on the other side of the river with a long way still to go. Other things happened but I don't remember now.
The funny thing is that the whole image is so completely familiar to me that I would swear blind I'd read about it in Bernal Diaz, except I know for a fact that I didn't, nor in any of the other South American set books I've recently read and yet the image and symbolism of that road is so clear in my head I feel that I must have read about it somewhere, for the life of me I don't know where and doubt that I have. This leaves the probability that my subconscious came up with the whole damn thing including the symbolism which I understood and now lies just out of the reach of my conscious mind. The hole in the road is symbolic as is the fact that you can walk past it without needing to jump it. I was also walking the road as a tourist, down a road of the ancients, something that they had all had to undertake.
The other influence was Aldous Huxley, as I read of his Mescalin experience I feel that I know exactly what he is talking about, even though I've never taken drugs, I understand the theory that the senses are actually a reducing device, and I believe it because I know that at times I have broken through that myself when you feel that you hold the entire universe in the palm of your hand and have opened your mind to the galactic consciousness and the eternal void of beauty and however else you might explain or describe it, words being entirely useless in this respect.
To return to the dream, everything around me was in extravagant colour, as Huxley describes his experience, everything took on an importance of it's own that it was impossible not to look at things and actually see them for the first time and find the eternity of things in full view of your eyes.
It's like seeing the whole world in glorious technicolour when previously it was entirely in monochrome.
It was a religious experience, but not a Christian experience, I was walking the path of a long dead tradition, a long dead religion, whether it was Aztec or something made up entirely in my own head, but I felt the power of that disappeared essence. It was a pilgrimmage.
The dream I had last night was different, entirely. We were driving (Don't ask me who was with me) along a road that ran parallel to a soft beach. A turning appears and we turn left down it. There is a pub with a sign saying "in financial difficulties" Further along the road there is a development. A well designed body of buildings with the sign Building for sale - 10 rooms (Or possibly 10 buildings) - £80.
We enter and the place is wonderful. The room we are in is a library of some sort. There appears to be a laboratory around somewhere. Of course I fall in love with the place. There's a couple of people around and I ask them why they are selling. That's where what I remember ended, but the dream seemed to go on. My dad asking what the hell I was gonna do with it (Completely true to life)
I buy the place but God knows what I did with it. I think I had several versions of the dream, doing different things, maybe I was lucid dreaming and kept changing my mind as to what I was gonna do, trying things out. If I can remember it I was certainly partly conscious. I certainly lived there, in this place where there was almost no one else, just a pub permanently on the verge of closing for lack of business. I do something right at least because people come to this place. I think it might have been my friends but I don't know, it'd make sense if it was. And things were happy ever after.
I don't usually remember any dreams, to the point that I haven't had a period of dreaming for nearly a decade or so. I've had one or two, plus De Ja Vu dreams but that's it. So these are interesting if nothing else to remind myself that I do dream like other people even if I don't know I do.
Both dreams were so real that I woke up and for a while thought that I had actually done the events described.
One dream is about taking a journey, the other is about finding a place to be permanently and while I know the influences of the first at least and can guess those of the second, and both were extremely attractive to me, no meaning appears. There may be no meaning but somehow, perhaps I want there to be a meaning but knowing my unconscious mind as I do I know that something is going on in there.
To die. To sleep.
To sleep, perchance to dream.
The first was kind of inspired by my reading both The Conquest of the New World by Bernal Diaz and The Doors of Perception by Aldous Huxley. I was in the middle of a massive forest or jungle and on a road. A massive road that wound through this jungle. There were other people further up or down the road but I was walking by myself. It wound around some buildings and underneath some columns with buildings above I think, there was a large square hole beyond this with what was probably lava there, although the road went past this so you could walk past it and the hole was symbolic, the whole road was symbolic, all the things that were on it. Further up it crossed a river or ran parallell to a river and I could look back and see people walking down the road behind me on the other side of the river with a long way still to go. Other things happened but I don't remember now.
The funny thing is that the whole image is so completely familiar to me that I would swear blind I'd read about it in Bernal Diaz, except I know for a fact that I didn't, nor in any of the other South American set books I've recently read and yet the image and symbolism of that road is so clear in my head I feel that I must have read about it somewhere, for the life of me I don't know where and doubt that I have. This leaves the probability that my subconscious came up with the whole damn thing including the symbolism which I understood and now lies just out of the reach of my conscious mind. The hole in the road is symbolic as is the fact that you can walk past it without needing to jump it. I was also walking the road as a tourist, down a road of the ancients, something that they had all had to undertake.
The other influence was Aldous Huxley, as I read of his Mescalin experience I feel that I know exactly what he is talking about, even though I've never taken drugs, I understand the theory that the senses are actually a reducing device, and I believe it because I know that at times I have broken through that myself when you feel that you hold the entire universe in the palm of your hand and have opened your mind to the galactic consciousness and the eternal void of beauty and however else you might explain or describe it, words being entirely useless in this respect.
To return to the dream, everything around me was in extravagant colour, as Huxley describes his experience, everything took on an importance of it's own that it was impossible not to look at things and actually see them for the first time and find the eternity of things in full view of your eyes.
It's like seeing the whole world in glorious technicolour when previously it was entirely in monochrome.
It was a religious experience, but not a Christian experience, I was walking the path of a long dead tradition, a long dead religion, whether it was Aztec or something made up entirely in my own head, but I felt the power of that disappeared essence. It was a pilgrimmage.
The dream I had last night was different, entirely. We were driving (Don't ask me who was with me) along a road that ran parallel to a soft beach. A turning appears and we turn left down it. There is a pub with a sign saying "in financial difficulties" Further along the road there is a development. A well designed body of buildings with the sign Building for sale - 10 rooms (Or possibly 10 buildings) - £80.
We enter and the place is wonderful. The room we are in is a library of some sort. There appears to be a laboratory around somewhere. Of course I fall in love with the place. There's a couple of people around and I ask them why they are selling. That's where what I remember ended, but the dream seemed to go on. My dad asking what the hell I was gonna do with it (Completely true to life)
I buy the place but God knows what I did with it. I think I had several versions of the dream, doing different things, maybe I was lucid dreaming and kept changing my mind as to what I was gonna do, trying things out. If I can remember it I was certainly partly conscious. I certainly lived there, in this place where there was almost no one else, just a pub permanently on the verge of closing for lack of business. I do something right at least because people come to this place. I think it might have been my friends but I don't know, it'd make sense if it was. And things were happy ever after.
I don't usually remember any dreams, to the point that I haven't had a period of dreaming for nearly a decade or so. I've had one or two, plus De Ja Vu dreams but that's it. So these are interesting if nothing else to remind myself that I do dream like other people even if I don't know I do.
Both dreams were so real that I woke up and for a while thought that I had actually done the events described.
One dream is about taking a journey, the other is about finding a place to be permanently and while I know the influences of the first at least and can guess those of the second, and both were extremely attractive to me, no meaning appears. There may be no meaning but somehow, perhaps I want there to be a meaning but knowing my unconscious mind as I do I know that something is going on in there.
To die. To sleep.
To sleep, perchance to dream.
posted by Caractacus at 20:55
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