dream 8

So me and a lady bug friend were using slings to throw marshmellows at the sun.

They never quite made it, but we laughed anyways.

Then we had a picnic in the colouring book world and made our food funny colours.

Yeah, that was it.

Who says joy has to be complex?

dream 7

So, last night's dream was far from enjoyable. Which makes no sense because the day I had before I went to sleep was easily one of the best days I've had in a very long time. >thanks to all my girls<

I awoke in my dream on the floor of some large room, very 'SAW' looking kinda room. There was a girl there that I have never seen before, urging me to get up on my feet. We had to go, we had to get moving.

She was about 5'6", with dark curly hair, soft skin and big blue eyes. She wore some kind of coursette-action hero body armour with matching block heel boots. Then I noticed what I had on.

Looks like another hero dream. Black poly-vinyl-leather material body armour with large gloves suitable for smashing things, with brass covered wires connected to my back,and pieces of metal over the entire suit.

This is about the part that she started screaming at me again.....loudly. So, I started breaking down the wall and getting away from 'something'.

Again and again, wall after wall, through room after room, I kept breaking through. No two walls were the same.

Each room was differant as well. After the dungeon room, we were in an abandoned surgical bay, then a storage room, etc..

Ordinarily, this kind of dream would blend off into distant memory, but this dream kept going in vivid detail.

I woke up exhausted and in physical pain. I'll blame the dream for my soreness, not the fact I played baseball yesterday after a long refrain from physical activity.

*SIGH*

Street Art to me

In my perfect world, street art would have this sense to it.

Although, I can't think of many places that have this level of cleanliness in my own city that aren't bordered with million dollar condos.....

Rethinking this spac

Alright, not that I had a solid agenda when I started this blog, but I feel that i have somehow strayed from my original intentions.

I wanted to use this as a source of journaling, of expression and to show you (whoever the hell you are) and remind myself of the influences in my life. Whether they be from dreams, day to day interactions, or inspirations I find on the net.

Not that a format change is necessary, but perhaps a variation from my usual format.

I love the whole world

I dunno....just always liked this one.....plus Hawking has a cameo....and he seems to be a theme for me.

dream 6

This dream made little to no sense for me, and unlike previous dreams I've had, I had little to no control over my actions and movements. That fact alone made the experience quite uncomfortable and distressing.

I was in a warehouse that was in dire need of repair. Rusted holes in the roof and support beams that were splintered and twisted. There were pieces of old farm equipment (like the steam powered kind from the late 1800's to the early 1900's...you know, with the metal wheels and such).

As I looked around the space, I realized how dangerous it was there. The creaking and moaning was louder than it should have been for the light breeze blowing through it. As I tried to move, my feet would not respond. When I looked down at them, they were fused into the floor and had seemed to grow some kind of root structure like a tree into the cement.

The breeze grew a bit stronger and I felt the presence of a crowd grow around me. The dust blew up in dark grey clouds which formed rough human shapes. Some had discernible faces, others had only hands or limbs that I could make out.

They swooped towards me, and through me, chilling me as they passed. They screamed random phrases in voices of pain and torment.

Couldn't run, couldn't scream, couldn't understand them.

Finally they returned to dust, and settled back on the ground. But as they all became piles on the floor, the floor itself turned into the same black dust and began to break apart into tiny particles. My feet were no free from their cement prison as the cement no longer existed. Soon, I was caught up in a swirl of spinning dust, the roof starting to fly apart and the beams croaking and screaming one last time, joining the chorus of whining wind, tortured voices and and screeching metal.

When I thought I could take no more, I let out a scream that seemed to stop the chaos in a super slow animation. With a loud clap that sounded similar to the sound and thump of jumping into cold ocean and your ear hits the water flat, the dust came rushing towards me solidifying around me like a stone cocoon.

dream 5

I'm bent down in front of Saks Fifth in Orlando, fixing my skates. They're black leather with gold stitching and golden blades. Something like a Steampunk bowling shoe with skate blades on the bottom.

The entire parking lot has a golden glow about it....like eternal dusk. The sodium street lights hum, but it's a melodic hum, like the after-ring of a timpani. Instead of the lot being paved with stone or concrete, it's a single sheet of some deep yellow metal.

I finish tying my skates, grab my shopping bags and skate off towards the hotel. The wind is soft and sweet as it blows past my face and as fast and as hard as I skate, my lungs seem more than capable of drawing whatever breath they need. The burn of my legs is a good burn.

As I realize this, I begin pushing harder and going faster, the beach getting closer and closer. As I reach the top of my speed, I hunker down and launch arms spread and kinda break free of my form into little particles of white and gold light.

It felt so good, like the ultimate release. I woke up with my arms spread out and the sun on my face. And, it's been a pretty good day.

dream 4

So, there I was in a dark alley, running from the cops. I had just sprayed a wall with a piece of art. It was a 12 foot long by 8 foot high font work.

It said simply "The why do you do it?". A phrase I picked up from a Guerrilla Art Site some months ago. It was used by spraying it on sidewalk tiles sporadically through a city to give people some introspection, in a word of seclusion without reason.

As I reached the end of the alley, i realized that I was cornered and had no way out.....but up. I lit off 2 smoke bombs and proceeded to leap from wall to wall to wall back and forth and always up, having the smoke cover my escape and of course add drama to the whole ordeal.

On the final jump, I landed on the rooftop of a bar and continued running across rooftops until I jumped off of one towards a garbage bin. Midfall, I dropped the backpack I had with me that contained all of my gear, but knew none of it had my fingerprints on it. Just to be sure, I ripped off my outfit (black on black cat burglar style) to reveal a respectable mid summer outfit ( of shorts, printed tee and sandals, threw the clothesinto the bag and lit a smoke bomb off in the bag.

Then I sauntered home and watched the sirens go whizzing up and down the street, grabbed a coffee and giggled to myself.

dream 3

So, for some reason, I was diagnosed with something that gave me about 1 month to live. After the depression sunk in, I checked my lottery ticket and realized I won about $4 million. Not exactly an even balance, I know.
I spent the next few weeks in and out of hospital, making phone calls and planning.
The last day of the month, I died. And in accordance with the plans I had made, only the immediate people were informed. My body was then cremated into ash.
One summer night, all of my friends and family to the 'Merb for the final event. The pyrotechnic guys were already set up. As was the huge catering tent and sound system guys.
As the sun set, and the sky reached the perfect darkness, they all went to their blankets spread out across the beach and watched the sky.
"If you're here watching this, I'm no longer with you....though that's not exactly right either..."
It began with a smoke machine creating a wall that projected pictures of me and my friends, and a message telling them how thankful I was for sharing the journey with them, and that instead of mourning me, this was a celebration of my life and my last gift to them.
There was to be no burial, as I was alread cremated. My ashes were put in small satchels and strapped to each piece of firework. I would leave them in a blaze of glory, light, colour and sound. My method of leaving would be something of joy for those around me.
The music began quietly and slowly rose in volume.
I left this world on wings of light and colour, with the 1812 Overture playing. That song has been the closest I have ever found to my appreciation of my friends and those important in my life.
I woke up feeling more alive than ever before....and I couldn't tell you how many times I've listened to the 1812 overture since then.