Shifting gears

Back home, back home. Am I a changed man? This is a difficult question to answer. I am sobered. Life sobers you. You have shining unrealistic shards of light mirrored back at you from the sky, but these aren't goals. They are lessons. So what have I learned? Firstly, I confuse metaphor and reality. This might relate to a growing spirituality; a deepening relationship with some sort of God figure. He talks to me through light signals and warmth. I don't know what the grand plan is, but it seems correct; just a gut reaction.
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I have also learned that no reads what I write; oh and writing is a sad, sorry fate. The best writers are death personified. Hemmingway, Kafka, Kobo. I love them, but I don't think I have the same values. They were sent on a different mission. I'm not sure if this Law School thing is going to work out; but it seems to be my mission. I know I can write the socks off anything I put my mind to.
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Oh--I learned that I'm not God's gift to the world. I often benefit from brainstorming, from other people. Objectivism, and exclusionary individualism seem now like a strange faze in my life. I could write a thesis on this point, but let it be enough that I've moved beyond Ayn Rand's philosophy.

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Family life is awesome. I love my family. I don't know what I would be if I weren't a family man, but I would not be nearly as satisfied with my life. I will leave it at that.

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I have yet to figure out my political philosophy.

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I have virtually stopped reading fiction. Every now and then I will pick up some Dostoevsky, but otherwise I'm too busy/bored with the ivory tower to dwell within it for now.

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I am really excited about law school. Maybe oregon. Adventure!

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My dreams have disappeared. I think I had a dream about King Soopers last night. Boredom. I have not been concentrating on lucid dreaming.............Where did the dreamer go?

A Devil Dream

I was tied with my arms behind my back and my face and body tied to a steel loop on the bottom of a bath tub that was filling up. The devil was watching me as the water rose to the level of my nose--and then I was submerged. The hotel was upside down in a sky scraper flying downwards towards hell. The sky was a crimson red, and the clouds were bright orange. As my body died, my mind's eye was transported and it saw the palacial great room of the hotel and cheribum unfurling long red tapestries from the walls. The floor of the hotel, which according to its topsey-turvey orientation, was now the ceiling, transformed from a checkered marble to the rough pixils of a brighter blue-grey cloud-scape at sunrise, which was interesting to see in contrast to the dusk-hued light bathing me from the sides. I swam upward; slowly corquescrewing through the cherubs' gossamer satin tapestries, that flowed, as if in the water drowing me. As rose petals fell upwards an intense feeling of peace and warmth took hold, and the light from the ceiling shattered the pixilated facade and then I was alone in white clouds, the bass of unseen trumpets buzzing in my head.

2 dreams

I stared down at her. She was prettier than when she played in the movies, and she had makeup on that was like a spectacle; white face, hair white on one side and blue on the other side of where the hair parted in the middle. She was reading a worn copy of Rolling Stone as she sat on the basketball court floor. She told the balding, pug-like Chinese man behind me that she wanted to have the magazine. After indicating she’d have to pay for it, I pulled out my wallet and gave the man five dollars, folded, waiving off the change.
When the business there concluded, we walked towards my house together. After confessing I knew her from the movies, I looked at her lips. One of the groupie hipsters that constituted her entourage walked slightly behind us as we walked down the sidewalks and greenbelts. What was he here for? Was he her boyfriend? I chose to ignore him, up until the point he directed us to his van where the starlet and I consumed one other, sweetly. The orange color hue made everything a perfect yellow and warm-like a life inside egg-yolk or sunlight suspended in honey.
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Gunshots in the desolate city’s train depot near the seaside. The area had been rusting for quite some time. Abandoned cars provided excellent targets for my new handgun. The gun itself is intricately designed, with many parts that locked onto it and make it longer. Before handing it to my friend I turned on the safety, which made the gun limp; it drooped until it was like pasta in his hands--Turning off the safety, it became erect again. The thuds of bullets hit like clods of dirt against rusted doors and side-view mirrors.

Savage Wedding

So I sat in honored place beside my family at round table during a certain wedding ceremony. A native american man approached our table and greeted my mother with kindness, as she was across the table from him and the two could not reach out to one another without a break in form. As thoughts of artifice and propriety brought a smile to my face, I reached out and shook the blocky, be-charmed hand at the end of the indian's half extended arm. He wasn't looking at me, and I hate being the attendant and not the rightful subject of introduction. "After all, I'm not a pet anymore", was the mantra which won out these days, despite the awkward counter-expectations built up in my mother mind's; to be carried on sweetly unto her end.
A side glance from the man revealed he had not expected my hand. As if pantomiming, he recoiled animatedly, then added insults in his native tongue. I stood up and punched the man square in the face.

Golden Roof

I watched a time-elapse video of a family remaking a roof from its original wooden state into a golden one. They took each wood-shingle and replaced it with a gold one. Finally they created a shining cross to place at the top of an improvised golden steeple. On the ground around the new church I was charged with pouring fresh water to boil out toad-eyes which peered out through cracks on the ground and shot out poison gas at passersby.

In my backyard I remembered that I often dreamed of spiders as, this time, I dreamed of killing spiders with bug spray--shooting it into their web cushions in brush and tree-poles, as big tarantula monsters hopped between pine-tops

morning glory

donepiece

Dreams last night

--Apartment complex. I'm in my room when my dog is stolen by police-nurses. It is brought back without eyes. Same with my cat, they are whaling when a nextdoor neighbor informs me the building is changing. Bars start raising over my windows; the faux wood paneling is replaced by raised columns of red brick. I run out just before the transformation is complete and the buildings doors are shut a constricting wall of these bricks. From the outside it looks like a monstrous flower closing its petals.

--Machine gangster wife with husband in rectangular spa pool. Woman is a famous actress from Shikoku. Parts of her body are completely absent--legs, one arm, side of face--and are replaced with cybernetic auxiliaries. He sits tatted up on the other side of the pool. She sits up, flashing back to her beauty without these strange accouterments. Walking up to him she glares down he glares back, and his face silently plunges into the azure clear spa water as her machine arm drowns him.

--My son and I are at a hong-kong estuary park, where a column of water, 5 foot deep and light clear blue provides fun like a gigantic wave-pool. No visible sea life, but one wonders if there is some in there, hidden. Suddenly a tidal wave smashes through with a rumbling noise. We hide behind a coral mound as the wave crashes around us and brings with it a heavy tourist bar-boat, which tumbles over with all its panicked charge.

-- A shikoku estuary populated on each side by two rival gangs--one ethnically Japanese, the other Korean. The leader of the Japanese gang is animated and angrily demands satisfaction. The Korean succinctly apologizes and hands over a novelty set of Catholic prayer beads from off his own neck with a large ivory crucifix hanging from the bottom. The Japanese leader puts them around his neck--a Korean gang-member on the concrete staircase leading down to the estuary waters triggers the crucifix and it explodes blowing out the back of the Japanese gang-leader with a terrific thud.

--flying car, helped by blue jet engine engineer. (dream fragment)

--Japan-town somewhere in Oregon with city lights and market and real-estate and casinos (dream fragment, possibly a setting)