Fragment: A personal rant inspired by a dream. [10/7/1997]
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And then [~08:30, 10/7/1997] came the dream(s), and with it ever more ideas as to the expansion of his consciousness; and by his, then to others as well? Possibly. It didn't help that he was influenced by forces beyond his control - but forces is a vulgar way to describe other people's minds, I'm sure. Isn't it? Well... if you say so. But then if that's true, then what is the polite method to use? Like I know? No. No rest. No comfort. No denials.
Influence - an ugly thing? Never. Or sometimes at the most. But without it, imagine the horrors, the endlessness of nothing. Um; that's not right. But that's okay. So there. And anyway, should you influence an ugly thing? Only if others find it ugly as well? Isn't that ugly within itself? It could be. So perhaps influence is ugly.
Dreams, though, were the topic under the initial discussion, but why return to the initial position, when evolution of conversation [even if this is a monologue - but it doesn't need to be; some personages may be ill enough to continue this one-sided dialogue by introducing the long-missed and never-seen-before second side. A polygon of paragons gone parallel.] is the ideal, the thing to strive for, for mutation is the key to survival, and I'll have words with anyone who says otherwise.
And in this dream were mysel[f/ves], of course, I think. There were others as well, but they were only in my head, as functions of both my imagination and memory - the bases of my thinking fuctions, I would hazard a guess. For those that know them, I'll give you a brief list of people that I think - and that's all I can do - were there with me, in imagined existence. They included, but were not limited to;
Mykl, Catt, Dougie Henry, Fiona S, Andy G, Phaedra.
Others' names I forget. Others there were, yes. But I've dried up already. All ready? No? Good.
Privacy, I feel, now comes into its own. There are parts of me that I believe are mine, and mine alone. Obviously there are also parts that are everyone's, parts that have a limited select audience, and parts that are for other's and are not mine, and the parts that are no one's. So parts of this dream were mine alone; and over time I will forget and they will be for the void and buried memories.
But of these two, which is stronger? Memory is as memory does (stop me if I'm getting too technical for you). The void, though, was the fifth element of the orientals. Ground Water Fire Wind Void. To quote Miyamoto Musashi's Go Rin No Sho, "In the void is virtue, and no evil. Wisdom has existence, principle has existence, the Way has existence, spirit is nothingness." Here I'm just picking the last words to his life's work, and quoting them for the cool and inscrutable feel to them, but to truly understand, you really must try reading the book. It's kinda good. [Thanks to Victor Harris for the groovy translations.]
Never did I used to think that I could be so much affected by dreams. Well, that's not entirely true. Okay! Okay! It's a falsehood! A blatant lie! I used to think, quite a while ago now, that dreams are only dreams. I know better (perhaps, maybe). I have since learnt. I recall, for example, waking from a dream crying because it was such a good dream. Thankfully to this day I can also remember the dream. I let my dreams keep me going, because I like them a lot.
Your own dreams are your own business. Do what you like with them. I care not. Well. Only slightly. After all, I respect your privacy and have no subconscious wish to deny you such luxuries, nor influence you in any malign way at all. I'm all for being smiley and happy - yes indeedy!
Ideals. That's all these are. We strive to reach such dizzying heights, realise we can't breathe at high altitudes, and tumble, dropping earthwards in a bout of terminal horror and unconsciousness. But still, I have faith that our ideals are what keep us as we are. Without them, would we be even as the blind worm, tunnelling through the earth, and never seeing the beauty around us? We could be happier as worms, but happiness is transitory. Live for your ideals. Let them take you along with them to the future. And influence dreams, and others' privacy, but never your ideals.
Stelio.