It does creep

Sizzla singing, disk of light on the ground, running to the cerimony, me and my sister, to the hills of lions, and stones, out of the traffic; it all make sense, enslaving master, your eyes are filling the sky and i fill them with compasion that'll never dry; understanding creeps in the darkness, of dreams, awake in the jungle spirits without face protecting their territories with screams, chaikosvki, down the steps, makes me forget; i found a seed of annihilation in my pockets, it grows lianas to the sky, umbarable cold.

Full moon

If living is an engagement within a field of meaningful relationship, then there is no less living in dreams. The attribution of morereality to the awaken life is not a matter of fact, but a matter of beliefs and views of the world. We should not even claim that, after all, you need to eat in order to dream, not knowing much about the condition before and after being embedded in a living body.

Being dreams and awaken life made of the same experiencial material, they confound together; memories become dreams, but also dreams become memories. Dreams get interpreted, but they're experiences themself, which, as awaken ones, will determine our intentionality in the world. There is no rest in life. Think about your dreams in this way, if you want to understand yourself, don't ask to psychomants to interpret it for you. You definetely can encounter something or someone in a dream before than in the aweken life.

I awoke one night; a naked old woman, covered with tatoo, knitting my soul. I think about her when the moon is full.

Ears to hear

I use to make a dream very often. To swim in the sky, sucked by the surface of it, as when you struggle to swim underwater. I never fell down at the end, but went higher and higher against my will.

The world isn't a map. It is skin to wear. So the Logos it is no word or painting, no sound and sinphony. But existence.

That's what I think. And the more I say it, the more I lose it.