It was a suburban neighborhood. I was exiting one or another house, and as I did so, she walked to make her entrance. I was unsure if she was going to feign an unawareness of my presence. At first it seemed that way. It was then impossible. But I was distracted, which I counted as some advantage, some protection. When I confronted her to greet her not knowing how I should do that, I saw her eyes see mine.
I can fly in my dreams. It's a regular thing.
I had that business that distracted me, but I flew up and out and around a tree. When I came back, like some boomerang, she was walking away. I threw a tantrum where I ripped the trees apart like a scythe, cutting swaths of them with my anger as I spun.
When I woke up, I meant to remember it.
Ceux qui ont apparié notre vie à un songe ont eu de la raison...Nous veillons dormants et veillants dormons. -Montaigne
Intro
O full-orb'd moon, did but thy rays
Their last upon mine anguish gaze!
Beside this desk, at dead of night,
Oft have I watched to hail thy light:
Then, pensive friend! o'er book and scroll,
With soothing power, thy radiance stole!
In thy dear light, ah, might I climb,
Freely, some mountain height sublime,
Round mountain caves with spirits ride,
In thy mild haze o'er meadows glide,
And, purged from knowledge-fumes, renew
My spirit, in thy healing dew!
Goethe: Faust I.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
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