joeseph

drinking coffee at dinnertime today. feeling a lot like my high school days. chillin on my computer like a spazoid and feeling pretty good about it, overall.

the best dreams are about REVOLUTION

Must've been a few nights ago. me and Alaya were being led around some kind of museum/restaurant. multi-tiered. I remember walking around, like Mystique, and I was able to morph into different disguises.

The climax of the dream involved us all lining up, going back to a childlike preschool setting. chairs set up in rows, waiting to go into the classroom. they were leading us towards death maybe, towards reindoctrination, but here we were in the heart of it as rebels, about to start a revolution in the very heart of the beast.

the most triumphant feelings come from these kinds of dreams.



more recent: i was on a beach. there was a big riptide pulling me out into the water. (remembrances of another dream where i was diving in the shallows avoiding sharks.) fading. maybe it will come back to me.

remembering that the waves were a sign of my dreamworld. always, always, always.

interesting that, earlier in my life, i was totally submerged. the tidal waves were enormous, pulling me out into the water. or looming on the horizon, a HUGE event about to fuck everything up. a total change in circumstances. a life altering event. recently they've been more shallow. i've been in the surf on the beach, battling them. is it because i've gotten, ostensibly, more control over my life in recent years?? where am i now, anyways?

i read an article in good times about lucid dreaming. felt like i should get back into it. chills coming in as i remembered the feelings from my dreams.

FUCK, man. why not feel this way in real life??!

had a crazy lucid nightmare the night before diving in Carmel. worst night's sleep ever. must've not been three solid hours. i woke up and the pillow was flung across the room.

interestingly it came after a super great meditation session where i felt lots of love emanating. the desire to go hard. to keep exposing myself to pain. i felt the terror pulling me in: "this is the realm of absolute terror. this is where people have seizures." i felt it as i was going into it.

terror, chaos surrounding. gangsters. the worst was my mom in rehab, looking fucked up out of her mind, with an IV drip of vodka, a huge jar going into her arm. super rad brian came down and tried to bring me back to reality. "here dude. i'm here for you. here's some weed and honey jack." the calm memories. friendship of easing the pain.

but i had to get away from him, keep subjecting myself. Noooooo! as I stretched away. eventually i found myself in a crazy house which i reasoned to be my grandparents. false awakenings. i tried to reclaim my identity thru reasoning. retraced the steps of my life; the past, 2010, 2012, different houses. where was i at now? but the only way to come back to peace was by breathing. breathing. in, out, in, out.

all i wanna do is listen to music and jam out. this is part of me.

fuck.

gotta sleep soon. but i don't want to. i'm holding fast to this.

more journalling coming tomorrow.