Just recently began to remember scraps and moments from my dreams.
And I am quite happy about it. Means my conscious and subconscious minds are communicating with one another, albeit with less than crystal clarity.
But I remember dreaming that I was in front of an audience at a lectern – something I dream and daydream of quite a lot. And I was explaining to the audience that I was an Acadian, which was a kind of French Canadian.
I then continued the lecture in French.
In my dreams, I can totally speak French.
I also remember something where I was going to do something I thought to be devastatingly clever that would let me completely avoid a terrible situation and throw the bad guys for a loop, but in involved me having to sneak out a door, hit the pavement and run as fast as I could somewhere.
And I was loving it. This was a kickass adventure and it was all started by me being clever as hell and doing something that I knew nobody would see coming and leave the forces of evil in a state of scrumptious disarray.
So basically, I was in a state of Peak Fox. If I ever get around to actually writing all the Fruvous adventures I have floating around in my head, that sort of thing will figure prominently and he gets himself into trouble and then escapes said trouble in ways that end up leading him into even bigger trouble.
And that’s exactly the way he likes it.
Hello there, sleep
I have finally decided that sleep is okay by me.
I will stop fighting it, I will stop railing against spending the whole day asleep. I will even try to learn to be cool about how fucked up it makes me feel sometimes.
If i end up sleeping all day, so what? All I was going to do is play a goddamned video game all that time, so nothing of substance or worth is lost.
Well, except the bullshit sense of progress and productivity games give. I need to reject that shit and go for actual accomplishments.
Sleep, at least, accomplishes something. It rests the body and lets the mind process the contents of our medium term memory in order to figure out what goes into long term memory. In doing so, it clears out the medium term memory and releases its resources back into the common pool.
That’s such a “me” way of explaining it!
When you don’t get enough decent quality sleep, your medium term memory fills up and then starts taking resources from your conscious mind in order to store new experiences at the cost of making you progressively stupider from the drain to your conscious mind’s resources.
Let that go on long enough and just to maintain the integrity of the information you still have not processed, the brain has to enforce microsleeps where you fall asleep for a few seconds and your brain gets a tiny bit of dreaming done.
So in conclusion…. um… sleep good. Much better than play video games.
I swear I was going somewhere totally different with this.
More after the break.
Back after FRED.
Things have been…. not good lately.
And it’s not just the flu-ish stuff I have already talked about. That sucks plenty, but it has also set off my IBS and so now I have to deal with THAT, too.
Hey kids! Did you know that stress makes IBS symptom worse? And do you know what is really fucking stressful? IBS SYMPTOMS.
Isn’t that just one big wacky buttload of fun, kids?
It also means that when I am emotionally distressed, IBS shows up to pile on and make everything that much worse!
Yes kiddies, my body punishes me for suffering with more suffering!
Wow, I must have been some piece of work in a previous life to deserve that, am I right kids? Huh? Do you GET IT, KIDS?
Somewhere inside me there is a VERY angry clown just screaming and screaming at the people passing his cell about what a bunch of fucking idiots they are and how he’s glad they are suffering the consequences of their own refusal to THINK and cackling and jumping up and down singing “because you’re too stuuuuupid!”.
He’s kind of bitter.
I’ve been pondering the idea of a dark god lately. Note the lower case g. This would be a god who starts off as your nemesis but eventually becomes your friend once you realize that he opposed you in ways carefully calculated to make you strong and force you to work through a lot of your issues instead of letting them fester.
I could see myself playing that sort of role in someone’s life. It’s not a role I would choose. but it might be the role I assign to myself if I think it is the only way I can help someone make it to the next level of consciousness.
That seems to be something I have a natural urge to do – help people level up their mind. To guide them in expressing all their dark bullshit, as torturous as that can be, so they can be rid of it and move on with their life.
Maybe that’s a trickster thing. Tricks, traps, puzzles, mazes, games, and things far darker that cut right to heart of your pain and lance it like a boil.
So in this sense, dark does not mean evil. It just means….; well. dark. Unpleasant. Ugly. Shadowy. Painful. Transcendence through the kind of deep suffering that is like your own personal Hell but leaves you stronger, happier, and above all cleaner in the end.
That kind of darkness has no place in mainstream culture. There are the forces of light and good and happiness and the forces of darkness and evil and misery, and that is that. No good can come from dark things.
But I see the beauty of dark things.
And I see the good they can do once you accept that sometimes things have to get a lot worse before they get better, and that the person who refuses to do you any harm might just be the one who is holding you back by keeping you from the real cure.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go lay down in the dark.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow./