Tag Archive for 'Dreams'

Hemispherical

Life within human civilization is an inevitable array of tragedy - the tragedy of human irrationality in the face of tremendous pressure to be civilized, to be logical. And it is the tragedy of rationality against the insurmountable irrationality of the mind. There is nothing less logical than the human brain, that collection of chemicals and electrical impulses. It can be made to seem logical, to follow certain rules, but in what are colloquially known as the heart and the head there are essential impossible differences. It is all very well to believe in humanity, in free love, in honor and virtue and right, and another thing entirely to practice such things. I have never met a person, nor do I wish to, who is entirely capable of living up to their ideals, be they staunchly religious and conservative, entirely anarchistic, or clear-headedly rational. Something always interferes.

I would no more wish to see a man or woman wholly contained, wholly controlled, fully rational, than I would to see one entirely animalistic, wholly instinctual, treading the ragged edge of sanity.

So life is a glorious muddle of irrationality, and we must try to cope however we can. I cannot much fault the religious nor those that adhere to any sort of dogma, any more than I can fault the drinker or the acid-tripper or the ascetic. It is a terrible thing to be human.

Hey Kid

Hey Kid

A recurring theme in a lot of my dreams is counterfeit money.  I’ll come into a large sum of cash and will buy something,  but when I attempt to pay, the money I pull out is always in nonexistent denominations (three-, 15-, or four-dollar bills), the wrong color (pink, blue, tie-dyed), the wrong size, or has the wrong portraits.  Sometimes it doesn’t look like money at all, sometimes it’s clearly Monopoly money, and sometimes it has obscure political tracts printed on one side.

The obvious interpretation of this is that I am skeptical of gifts, don’t believe that I will ever be rich, or just wouldn’t know what to do with any sort of money.  Or maybe, you know, my subconscious is trying to tell me something about the ephemeral nature of the Benjamins.

Dreams etc.

Last night I dreamed you called me. I couldn’t talk, though, because I was trying to be inconspicuous. You see, I was apparently some sort of vampire, and I had taken refuge hovering over someone’s roof after a bear tried to eat me. I could be invisible, but only if I didn’t move. I wasn’t going to answer, because I had a long cold midnight flight ahead of me and I didn’t want to be noticed.

But you kept calling, so I flew a bit higher and got out my phone and answered it. And I woke up talking to my pillow, and you hadn’t called at all.