Dreams 31

So I was taken from my normal life by this being of light, essentially a man shape glowing amber that was difficult to look at directly. We'll call him the guide. He took me to this tiny point of light deep in the universe, showing me en route that it was a mere speck of dust surrounded by hundreds of enormous and terrible cosmic entities, each one the size of a galaxy, but all in a cluster focused on this tiny point of light. One by one they were diving into it, and there was a hole in the point of light that they had to dive through, and some weren't making it.
The guide took me to the point of light then, and it was part of a street in a small town with a grocery/furniture store. The hole was in the middle of the street, and lining the street was a long series of wooden shelves filled with pill bottles that had stitched woolen labels, almost like they were all wearing socks. The guide pulled one and handed it to me, it said: Toby Anderson. It had a stitched image of a cartoonish little boy with a hat and coat and at the bottom it said: Beloved Uncle
It wasn't mine, because it was spelled wrong, and before I said anything the guide switched it for one that had my name spelled correctly. The stitching was red on white, but my name was white with white outline, and looked incomplete, like it was supposed to be filled in with red. The cartoon boy had sad red eyes and at the bottom it said: Too Soon. I opened the bottle and the guide told me offhandedly not to take one, but I had the feeling that he wanted to help me but was not allowed to say certain things, so I took one. It was shaped like a small inverted dark chocolate mushroom.
He then took me to the grocery/furniture store to talk to some people. The rooms we went through were all furniture, and we got to one that was empty except for this lady sitting on a big wooden chair with an audio device next to her, watching tv. She saw us and turned off the tv, then told her audio device "auto play Bonnie Raitt". The device started playing Concrete Jungle by Bob Marley and the Wailers, and I turned to the guide and told him I had heard that song 10 times in the last week and that my friend on the west coast sent me a video of them playing it live on The Old Gray Whistle Test (which is true in real life). The lady then gave me a series of appointments with these weird cosmic "doctors" which took place in a rotating set of little energetic windows. One of the doctors told me "the universe doesn't have a plan for you, Toby, you have to take a plan" and one tried to break me down with words mentally, but I bested him, because I'm good at words and shit. Then I woke up.

Haiku 101

I have been the night
Now I'm longing to get home
With nothing I own

Luray Caverns

 Dream Lake

The Spectre (Pluto's Ghost)

Science

Haiku 85

Time can disappear
In the eyes of an instant
Become something else

Weave 16

This one is the One. The one around which all of the rest of mine revolve. It started at a nightclub of all places, and we (three lights this time) got Felix the Cat’s from this insanely hot girl we were lucky enough to know. On the dance floor we smoked a joint, and someone came to us blowing a whistle. We thought we were busted but it turned out to be just some douche that wanted to hit our joint. He did. I remember my first unrequited sneaking under my poncho (my beautiful afghan poncho that’s lost in the mists of time) and popping her head up next to mine. There was a beach volleyball court at the back of this club.

Escape and driving, you have to divert most of your attention elsewhere while focusing your tiny normal awareness on the road. Otherwise the road gets real weird. This particular light liked to drive on the yellow lines like a monorail when the road was empty. 

We walked the streets of my neighborhood, beat boxing (not necessarily just hip hop, but making rhythmic noises in concert with our mouths), which was a big part of what we did back then, how we brought out the flows. This time, this magical time, the flows of energy that connect the universe came all the way out, and we could see them, and move within them. Manipulate them. I saw a pool of pale blue luminescence on the ground. My heart was beating fast so I sat down and opened a flow of calm. It looked like me sleeping in a peaceful blue shadowy bedroom. Then I was fine. We got moving again and continued to ride the flows and opened one we knew led to girls, but nothing happened at that moment. The bigger the flow the longer it takes to move. The guiding light did the weirdest beat box version of ‘Purple Haze’ ever. There were several minutes when I completely forgot that it was that song, until it returned. Of course, we accompanied him, but that flow was his. I accidentally opened a flow that turned us into a beer, but we escaped, as that particular intoxication was not appreciated on this level. He said ‘p times 3 gets rid of the enemy’ and made a finger twirling spiral that tightened up to a point in the center (almost like closing a safe and spinning the dial). It was a way to close flows that we didn’t want to participate in. I perceived that I could make street lights brighter, and cigarettes looked evil. He called the houses ‘inside people squares’.

The girls showed up then, surprised us outside with no phones involved (we called them with the flow). It was unrequited and her sister, and another beautiful young woman (who also talked to felix). Teenagers can be so lucky sometimes. We played a bizarre reverse version of hide and seek the girls came up with, but I don’t remember how it worked. We sat by the pool, and I could swear we were making the water rise. I could see the gigantic flow that made the sky. I could see all the flows. 

We walked on in the day and met Mr. E. He was one of the gods, a one eyed god above the trees.

Weave 15

Two orange suns, taken at a mall of all places. Needless to say, an exit strategy was necessary and imminent. Two bright lights and some inconsequentials. In the back of a car I remember we started it going by reeling in these huge flows like manipulating an incredibly complicated invisible fishing pole. Unraveling web after web, our hands moving very fast and sure and automatic. We were touching the lines of energy that connected us to all things, but we could not see them yet.

The nobodies took us to a party at some house filled with older nobodies drinking beer. The two bright lights went to the backyard and took in some plants in a pipe made out of cigarette pack foil. There was a really high, really rickety treehouse with boards nailed to the tree for a ladder. Of course we ascended. It was peaceful up there. I remember looking down, and the ground was spinning, like a whirlpool. A great silent whirlpool of grass and dirt and twigs. We got down, we got out, we got home.

Back to the house and an Abraham Lincoln hat, lots of staring into a mirror, a lighter becoming a campfire, and slightly out of sync guitars. Always guitars. I remember dueling out in the dark with the lighted ends of our cigarettes, also looking at the ends close and seeing the faces of the tobacco screaming. There are faces everywhere, in everything. And all manner of gods walking the earth, their heads towering above the trees. I’ve seen them.

Down the Rabbit Hole

The Ocean

swim

Yes

Weave 12

This place moved to a beach. The gray-green waters of a mid-atlantic beach, mirroring itself on the ground and the sky. Three synchronized detonations of this astral explosive, filling our minds with ancient shapes and patterns. Much like the witch now we moved on the sand, cosmic rhythms giving us intuitive movements, powerful movements. Secret movements. Three points of light in a dark ocean of chaos. Momentum fades, words fail, and the lights separate. Nothing lasts forever.

Brief loneliness happens.

Two lights reunite with happiness, pulling together through storms of poetry and sand. The guiding light. The third light. Seen in the distance atop a cliff, waves crashing against the base. There are no sailors here. Only a lighthouse filled with magic and madness. A race to the cliff, which recedes to accommodate the two lights to be three again. 

Money looks ridiculous. Ghostly pieces of dirty paper that forever stains the fingertips. No more looking so closely. There is wood we can walk on. Creaking stairs and gritting sand and we pile in with strange humans, creatures of the night and keepers of the faith. The faith that this delusional world of objects is the alpha and omega. Faith in their bank accounts and love affairs. No conversations pass, but we summarize them by the look on their face and the movement of their limbs. They have not seen the power that looms over their head and behind their eyes, they are just timidly walking past it, head down, hoping it will pass them by. It gets to everyone eventually. Even you, timid nobody. Even you.

Sunlight changes the colors of everything, deepens the textures. Salty air fraught with moisture. We look like ugly girls in the solace of dawn. Laughter abounds. Streets are walked, a pink elephant seen, and necklaces are made out of miniature boxes of laundry detergent. Small, peanut butter smeared bagels ‘cooked’, and the fan turns my voice into zombonic robo-scissors. Guiding light makes the guitar sound right finally.

I’m hunting. hunting for power and a safe landing in a fierce and unforgiving world of moving energy. There’s a moral to these fabled stories and a sphere where they are each lodged within my being.

Owl and Spider 26

                                                                               Dark

                                                                                Side

Dreams 22

So me and a few other humans are going to this sponsored/ticketed event at a school of some sort. I don't recall what the event is, and I only vaguely remember seeing some things. In the hallways, though, we pass Matt Damon 3 times and each time he has to check our tickets, because he's a ticket checker. Each time he marks down his inspection number, which is 69. The third time he marks mine he points to the upper right hand corner where someone that was not him had written a 69. He's drinking a half empty, watered down gin and tonic (or maybe vodka) with a lemon. He walks with us and we avoid a few random hallway ladders, and he says to me 'Hey, after this we should go to the other side of town and have some drinks'. 'Maybe' I say. Then he asks me why the hesitation, and tells me we'll have a great time. I totally agree, but I tell him that I might have band practice, but if not, then we'll totally go party. Awoken.

Abandoned Amusement Parks 8

 Lai Chi Kok Amusement Park, Hong Kong

 Joyland, Wichita, Kansas

 Miracle Strip Amusement Park, Panama City, Florida

 Glen Echo Park, Glen Echo Maryland

  ?????                                                                                                                       slo trans                                                                                                                                                                                               

Dreams 21 (The Gates of Almond)

So me and this girl who kept morphing into girls that I have known throughout my life (so we'll call her girl) were going to this legendary house that was a museum/tourist attraction called "The Gates of Almond". The door was located at the top of all these huge concrete slabs that you had  to climb up using mostly ladders and stairs. At the top, all around the door were these blue and yellow tiles in a really amazing pattern making square arches and such. In the front door and to the right was a large room with those spinning swings you can ride at amusement parks. They were turned off, but we found the controls on a wall in the corner. I turned them on, then went and jumped in one as they started up, spinning and raising and lowering. Girl didn't want to ride so she manned the controls. My swing started to go haywire, turning me around corners and walls and generally doing impossible things. I shouted for her to stop the swings and she did, turning them back off. In my swings wild meanderings I had glimpsed a large bath house-type bathroom and I wanted to show it to her, so we set off in that direction, now without clothes. There were a few people around at this point, and one made a good natured comment about our nakedness. The bathroom was huge, floor to ceiling white tiled, immaculately clean and mellowly lit. Most of it was a giant shower area, and we went through this to another door that led to a huge indoor pool. Very dim indirect light. The pool wasn't a big rectangle, but rather narrow lanes that wound around like a labyrinth, the water dark blue and dark blue tiles everywhere. We swam for a while, then made out passionately and did the delectable things that lovers do. There was a dj in the far corner spinning some super rad downtempo shit. Then, I looked up and saw a very fat very naked dude smiling and doing a hilarious dance. We decided to leave out the door by the dj, and when we got to the next room we had clothes on again. This room was huge, with cream colored padded flooring. There were esoteric statues all around of abstract people bent at right angles. In one corner, there were these hazy mirrors set up at three angles so you could see yourself, but when I looked in them, a multicolored, flickering light only revealed my image in odd flashes and strange angles that jumped out unpredictably. I tried to get her to look but she didn't want to. We explored more of this house but I don't remember.

The Floyd

Pink Floyd live at Pompeii, 1972
Post Meddle and pre-Darkside of the Moon

Owl and Spider 19

Haiku 48

Roaming these hallways
A monster of energy
Seeking some solace

Weave 3

I've been writing on a thin line that expands outward the more words that escape my fingers not thinking but rolling in a landscape of scary monsters, winding about me are sounds and screens and strings of light that organize themselves automatically based on weather patterns and predictions of the future from bizarre and bearded older gentlemen sitting in dark and mystical corners sipping tea and staring off into space with cobweb minds they think themselves into oblivion by riding waves of madness that never end into a space that never stops with people who never talk, only look over their shoulder at the birds eye view of total destruction that escapes even the strongest hearts and souls.

The Study