Dreams within dreams
Dreams are such wonderful things... after the event they always leave a little sense of wonder in my mind as to what they really meant and if there's a particular significance in the scenes that unfold in the dead of night...
For the most part I enjoy my dreams because the are such a gentle reminder that not everything is what it seems, that reality is so often a desperately sad fiction we distraughtly cling to during our daily lives, that dreams are a way of processing the rubbish and the filth created by the symptoms of a diseased society, purging our psyches of the poisonous conformity we inflict upon ourselves.
Human beings are such contradictory creatures... we need our own space, our own air in physical, emotional and spiritual terms in order to be able to survive as individuals whilst doing our level best to let our lives be led into the traps of uniformity, routine and excruciating mediocrity so that we might feel safe...
So often we play the games of life on such safe and comforting terms, so often ignoring the realities "outside the box" as uncomfortable and dislocating... we need to dream, we need to see the absurd "realities" around us for the nightmares they so often are, we need to find ourselves and redefine our needs in the context of our own daily lives...
The world is a small place, we individuals are even smaller but each of us is part of the dream which needs to be validated at every moment... the perceived "common good" ignores our unique natures as much as possible, forcing progress along artificial lines which will run aground somewhere, sometime, with only the least able to carry the burden of guilt heaped upon them by their "leaders"...
It's late, time's up, I need to sleep and perhaps to dream after an invigoratingly messy three week holiday plus a couple of days of sick leave tacked on afterwards...
Keep well...
For the most part I enjoy my dreams because the are such a gentle reminder that not everything is what it seems, that reality is so often a desperately sad fiction we distraughtly cling to during our daily lives, that dreams are a way of processing the rubbish and the filth created by the symptoms of a diseased society, purging our psyches of the poisonous conformity we inflict upon ourselves.
Human beings are such contradictory creatures... we need our own space, our own air in physical, emotional and spiritual terms in order to be able to survive as individuals whilst doing our level best to let our lives be led into the traps of uniformity, routine and excruciating mediocrity so that we might feel safe...
So often we play the games of life on such safe and comforting terms, so often ignoring the realities "outside the box" as uncomfortable and dislocating... we need to dream, we need to see the absurd "realities" around us for the nightmares they so often are, we need to find ourselves and redefine our needs in the context of our own daily lives...
The world is a small place, we individuals are even smaller but each of us is part of the dream which needs to be validated at every moment... the perceived "common good" ignores our unique natures as much as possible, forcing progress along artificial lines which will run aground somewhere, sometime, with only the least able to carry the burden of guilt heaped upon them by their "leaders"...
It's late, time's up, I need to sleep and perhaps to dream after an invigoratingly messy three week holiday plus a couple of days of sick leave tacked on afterwards...
Keep well...
2 Comments:
Bart, I've tried commenting twice or thrice this past week via dial-up while I was waiting for the new service to be installed. In light of everything this will seem a "fluff" question -- the second to last image, the black & white figure -- who is the artist? It's beautiful.
I hope things are evolving for you satisfactorily, at least. You've been in my thoughts -- you, and yours.
Bart - I hope you are feeling better from your flu. I loved the images along with this post, very fitting. And the one of the jailbird tunneling made me laugh out loud.
I love my dreams, both the ones I have at night and the ones that fill my waking hours. The main difference is that my night dreams are almost always about people from my past that I have no more contact with. There are a few recurring characters, and I always wake up with such a sense of nostalgia for these people who probably don't have an idea that I think of them so much...
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