Elliott's Twilight in Space
"Never laughed this hard in a long time, better stop now before I start crying..."
Lately I've been mulling a lot of things within myself, and all that is somehow supplemented by my countless sitting hours in bed watching YouTube. I've more or less stopped dreaming - or at least remembering - the kind of dreams that are meaningful, or the ones that convince you somewhat that they're not utterly meaningless.
So, summing up my wakeful life's most recent consumption history, I found: Dreams reveal the underlying thought; thoughts become things; every little or big thing you see in this physical world is the outcome of someone's thought; things attract more things and, thus l, thoughts...
I woke up from a dream that had in it
multiple entities I love. Let's shelve the analysis for a while, here's what I saw in the dream:
I'm playing a space video game. The old kind, the kind you can easily relate to the classic Galaxian or Galaga from the Nintendo era. And suddenly I'm taking up this exam that I'm finding tough, but kind of celebrating it; my stress levels are zero.
I don't know whether it was before or after this that I saw our beloved dog Brownie in the living area of my place. No idea whether he's sick or not, he's draped in a bedsheet or a piece of cloth; only his head is put. He's refusing to eat. I ask my mother if he has had his meal. She denies. It's been quite late for that meal, I figure intuitively. I say we feed him potatoes, quite confident that he would gladly accept the carbs.
Back to this open room-like confinement aglow with yellow light in the middle of space. It's kind of a space classroom. I'm done with as much as I could answer from the question paper. Now I hear Elliott Smith - yes, in space. I hum, I sing, I begin to write random stuff on the answer sheet... The song Twilight is playing. It's depth of the dark and the end of the world we're at and there's Twilight by Mr Smith playing.
The song catches me off guard, leading me to a complete disconnect from the event. So much that I'm not even there, neither is my desk. It's been moved out of the queue because I'm gone.
But I must finish my exam so I return. I've started talking to others the normal way. The guy in front of me is not only disturbed but rather embarrassed of my behaviour. The guy at the back, however, is keeping a welcoming face and is busy putting my desk back in order - he's also finding the whole Twilight playing here kind of amusing perhaps.
I revise me answer sheet to make sure I'm done with the paper and nothing more I could do is left unattempted. Finally I'm done. I sing, I laugh - loudly. The guy at the front isn't liking it at all. He also looks over his shoulder to pass a last warning stare. But I don't care.
I get out of the hall. There's a dark passage. The sound is even louder here. "Better stop now before I start crying..." And I strike my back against the wall to the right and burst out crying. But it's so good.
End of dream... I think.
Now, analysis: Even though I'm nearing 30, a point where a lot is required of me, I am quite aware of what I enjoy and what I've always enjoyed. Back and forth, I am stepping forward to engage myself in the world outside, and the world inside, thankfully, is not getting neglected. My ears for the artists I've always loved are covered in dust and yet intact. And inside, though I mostly feel I'm older than I existentially am, I am 10 or 11 tops - I just get convinced I'm not.
My life is in my hands whether I remember or forget. And the expiry date is always at the back of my head. Things we enjoy perhaps help us figure out what we want to do, where we want to be.
Space travel much? :D
Lately I've been mulling a lot of things within myself, and all that is somehow supplemented by my countless sitting hours in bed watching YouTube. I've more or less stopped dreaming - or at least remembering - the kind of dreams that are meaningful, or the ones that convince you somewhat that they're not utterly meaningless.
So, summing up my wakeful life's most recent consumption history, I found: Dreams reveal the underlying thought; thoughts become things; every little or big thing you see in this physical world is the outcome of someone's thought; things attract more things and, thus l, thoughts...
I woke up from a dream that had in it
multiple entities I love. Let's shelve the analysis for a while, here's what I saw in the dream:
I'm playing a space video game. The old kind, the kind you can easily relate to the classic Galaxian or Galaga from the Nintendo era. And suddenly I'm taking up this exam that I'm finding tough, but kind of celebrating it; my stress levels are zero.
I don't know whether it was before or after this that I saw our beloved dog Brownie in the living area of my place. No idea whether he's sick or not, he's draped in a bedsheet or a piece of cloth; only his head is put. He's refusing to eat. I ask my mother if he has had his meal. She denies. It's been quite late for that meal, I figure intuitively. I say we feed him potatoes, quite confident that he would gladly accept the carbs.
Back to this open room-like confinement aglow with yellow light in the middle of space. It's kind of a space classroom. I'm done with as much as I could answer from the question paper. Now I hear Elliott Smith - yes, in space. I hum, I sing, I begin to write random stuff on the answer sheet... The song Twilight is playing. It's depth of the dark and the end of the world we're at and there's Twilight by Mr Smith playing.
The song catches me off guard, leading me to a complete disconnect from the event. So much that I'm not even there, neither is my desk. It's been moved out of the queue because I'm gone.
But I must finish my exam so I return. I've started talking to others the normal way. The guy in front of me is not only disturbed but rather embarrassed of my behaviour. The guy at the back, however, is keeping a welcoming face and is busy putting my desk back in order - he's also finding the whole Twilight playing here kind of amusing perhaps.
I revise me answer sheet to make sure I'm done with the paper and nothing more I could do is left unattempted. Finally I'm done. I sing, I laugh - loudly. The guy at the front isn't liking it at all. He also looks over his shoulder to pass a last warning stare. But I don't care.
I get out of the hall. There's a dark passage. The sound is even louder here. "Better stop now before I start crying..." And I strike my back against the wall to the right and burst out crying. But it's so good.
End of dream... I think.
Now, analysis: Even though I'm nearing 30, a point where a lot is required of me, I am quite aware of what I enjoy and what I've always enjoyed. Back and forth, I am stepping forward to engage myself in the world outside, and the world inside, thankfully, is not getting neglected. My ears for the artists I've always loved are covered in dust and yet intact. And inside, though I mostly feel I'm older than I existentially am, I am 10 or 11 tops - I just get convinced I'm not.
My life is in my hands whether I remember or forget. And the expiry date is always at the back of my head. Things we enjoy perhaps help us figure out what we want to do, where we want to be.
Space travel much? :D
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