The Visit

There's someone standing over me

Well

Sitting really

I don't know who they are but

(Is it you?)

They've got something to say

There's a whispering

A sussurus

An echo on the edge of hearing

I wish I could hear the words

(What was that?)

But I think they don't have meaning

And then it's gone

But Somehow Still there

I don't think it's trying to help

But it's not hurting either

There's something between us

A separation 

A segregation

A wall of protection

And a feeling as well

Like I shouldn't listen to the words

That I can't hear

Which 

(Is ridiculous)

Makes perfect sense

Because if something 

Or someone

(Or something)

Appears in the night

And it won't show its face

Then how can it possibly 

Be good?

Did I Hear You Say That This is Destiny?

Evening all. 

Only a short one today.

Lately my dreams have been troubling me. I know that dreams can be mastered, can be made to flow like a paintbrush or a pleasing guitar riff, but recently I've been struggling.

Last night was particularly bad. I won't go into detail but to summarise it was one of those outside-looking-in scenarios. I say scenario because it had this jilted, scripted feel to it, and my previous dreams have been dictated by moment-to-moment choices, a constant rush of decision and visualisation - they weren't very relaxing dreams but they sure as hell were fun, letting me live on my instinct and flex my small talent for spontaneous creations, something I rarely have the energy or drive to do in my waking hours. This though, this was a disturbing one. I could see a representation of myself in a situation where my instinctive reaction would have been to completely turn the circumstances on their head, resulting in an excellent dream that would have been a sheer joy to remember for those first ten minutes after waking. But the me I was seeing was a horrible thing, all sharp, barking insults and trembling fists, and the edges of my vision were gloomy. Not shadowy, but gloomy, like I was viewing the scene by lamplight or the light on one of those chunky old TV crew handheld cameras. 

To cut a long story short I was exposed to a nasty, fabricated nightmare. It's only because of the mood I was in when going to bed, and the fact that I tried sleeping about five hours ahead of my usual time, that I was vulnerable. Looking back on it has made me rethink how to tackle these things in future, and take the lessons I learned over the last few years and reapply them, going back to basics and letting my inner power burn brighter than ever before. Unlike the times in years past when this was a white-hot  blaze, I've begun to visualise it as a green and golden light, colours I associate with healing, life, growth, change, love and the earth.

On a more physical note, regular visits to the outdoor gym and cutting back to six tabs a day has made one heck of a difference to my energy flow. The burn after doing an hour's excercise is actually a great feeling, just like it was the last time. I'm now certain that this is something I need to keep up, no matter what else happens.

Anyhow, I have to thank you for putting up with this intrusion into the silence, but it's been a relief to get some thoughts on screen (if not paper) again.

I'm going to bed now, and I wish you all pleasant dreams.

Thanks for stopping by,

Odsox