On Dreams and Near-Death Experiences

Yeah, I edited that title for capitalization. Kinda defeats the purpose of freewrting. Ha! Didn't edit that one....

anyway, I recently told someone that I collect dreams, but the I realized my collection won't keep very well if I don't write more of them down!

Like a week or two ago, I had a dream where I was learning braille. And for a rather unusual purpose. But I can' tremember much bey9ond that.

I collect other people's dreams, too. And sometimes I interfere with them. Like one time, when a friend was muttering "No! no!" And obviously having a scary dream.
Or apparently anyway, if not obviously. So I decided to help her out and asked her "What's going on? is something chasing you?"
"Yeah."
"what's chasing you?"
"spiders!" (still sleeping)
"Here, take this magnetic flyswatter to fight them!"
"okay..."

A few minutes later she woke up. I asked her "did you have a scary dream?"
"yeah! How did you know?"
"Were there spiders in it?"
"yeah....How do you know that?"
"what did you do about the spiders?"
"I smashed them!"
"with what?
"A flyswatter!"
"Was it a magnetic flyswatter?"
"I don't know..."

close enough. I hope someone arms me with super cool weapons when I have a scary dream. In fact, if reality is just a layer higher than dreams, then maybe there's some way to materialize stuff from the realm beyond the reality we perceive........hmm..... But who or what would implement it?

That's not so easy anyway. Reality is made of denser stuff than dreams. It takes a higher activation energy to alter the material world than the immaterial one.

In other words, the manifestation of a thought into matter often requires a medium through which to communicate the (trans)formation. Often the process is begun by writing, but there are other ways.


hmmm....What is this branch of comtemplation called? Metaphysics?

Too bold? Nay

I had 1/2 an hour to wait in line, buy some food, eat it, and get to my Social Dance class. I picked the second-shortest line I could find, in front of L&T. The first-shortest line was at Freschetta's, and half my summer suppers consisted greatly of their leftovers, so I wasn't too keen on eating there.

So I positioned myself behind the 7 or so people I could see waiting at the storefront, and began scoping out someone to try my new experience on. What new experience? Buying a drink (soda pop, juice, etc.) for a stranger, that is.
It had only been a moment or so when I looked to my right toward the back of the line and saw a young lady giving me an good-natured but strange look. Having got my attention, she began formulating an explanation for what I had just noticed. She was also waiting in line... before I had arrived. Oops.

It only took half a question as to whether that was the case for her to confirm it with half a word, so I then explained how late I was and basically begged to be excused if I should hold my position in line. She acquiesced with a shrug and I saw my opportunity. I said, "Well if you're gonna let me butt in front of you, then you have to let me buy you a soda pop, too."
"I don't really want soda lately," she declined.

I was temporarily defeated, but still on schedule for a rushed meal when she casually mentioned,"I wish they had fruit juice and stuff like that here."
Perking up instantly, I pointed out the juices and we decided that I'd get her a bottle of orange juice.

I made several other attempts at socializing with my new friend, and kindly preventing me from getting any hopes up for a date, she mentioned meeting her husband off-hand. Missing only a beat or two, I asked, "How long you been married?"

"Since November," she replied.

Pondering on my singleness and lack of success in the world of dating and courtship, I took the chance to ask,"What's it like for you? Everyone here seems real enthused about it, but it's just a messy mystery to me," and what do you know -- she told me their whole courtship story, providing me with some good advice and not feeling awkward at all.

Too bad single girls generally don't open up like that. Too bad they generally feel awkward, pressured, or just turned off if you try to have a decent conversation with them or buy them an orange juice. And ultimately, too bad married girls aren't single, or I would be able to have a relationship.
(Would it be too much to ask for divorced girls to not be jaded?)

Whelmed, and Nearly Overly So

Someday I will tell my kids and grandkids how I managed to succeed in school despite the lack of funds, food, time, sleep, and sanity I have been supplied with. But why join the collective litany of the majority of all students everywhere?


Simply by writing that paragraph I see now that I would rather stubbornly feel differently about the difficulties of school, and simply to refuse disappearing into the homogeneous morass of self-pity from which decent, productive, and inspiring human beings eventually boil up from upon reaching critical experiential and emotional mass.

I also see that if I write the way I speak, i.e. in whole paragraphs rather than concise sentences, I'm going to need to revise it, or I will lose my audience easily.

So I'll have to resist editing more than before, or inadvertently forsake the revelatory properties of spontaneous writing, for which blogging is otherwise very contributory.


Eesh! Sometimes vocab can get in the way of the flow, y'know? I have $10. I should buy deodorant. Why do I keep forgetting things and leaving them behind? Perhaps that is why God has not permitted me any opportunity to create children thus far, legitimately or otherwise, let alone approaching the event. :-P I've become senile at age 26.

Well, I'd better stop before I get in a permanent funk. All too easy these days. More later. I have assignments to slay.