Do You Feel Lucky?

(and feel free to comment! My older posts are certainly no less relevant to the burning concerns of the day.)

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Sleep, Delicious Sleep!

So nice to sleep in on the weekends. I just awoke at 10:39! How lovely. I can't recall a single dream I might have dreamt, they've all drawn their dream-tendrils in and slithered glitteringly back to the steam and misty terrains of Unconscia.

Sometimes if you grab a tendril and hold it fast, right when you wake, you can retain your memory of the dream. And if you anchor yourself in wakeaday-land and pull hard on that tendril, sometimes you can pull the whole dream back out again and examine it. Write it down.

They kind of hate that though. They like to slide off your memory like chloroform oil, disappear back into the rich loam of your brain's subconscious, to reemerge perhaps in altered or true form on some unsuspecting night. Dream memory revels in its slipperiness. It doesn't like to be dragged into the light of waking examination and waking memory, where it can be retained. Interpreted.

Thinking about fixing some breakfast.

2 comments:

JMH said...

I would need speed. I'm not sure how you manage so many thoughts in a day, and expressed so nicely mostly. Though I am a sucker for bunches of l's, dotted i's, and t's ("tendrils in slithered glitteringly"), I don't think that makes it any less honest. I'm lit.

dogimo said...

Thanks, man! I do go overboard on the alliteration and stuff sometimes, but I swear - it's barely even deliberate! Or perhaps I mean, it's not controllable, or controlled.

For me I don't think it's having thoughts, so much as catching them. So many slip away, out and about, haven't got a recorder, haven't got my moleskin to jot an indecipherable bit of gist for later expansion. But I don't mind much, after all, life's going on! Priorities.

Ultimately, most of my thoughts are comparatively inconsequential, so if I lose a dozen or a few in the course of the day, I figure they can always recur (if they're that important).

My real secret is: I type hell of fast. A hyperspeed crippled ballet of two fings and a thumb.