Let me preface this post by telling you I just hit my right elbow on the corner of the refridgerator, and my funny bone reacted with an explosion of pain that was worthy of quite a few expletives. I still rub it now, it serves to remind me I'm not giving enough...why else would I have hit it?
The tree above reminds me of a tree in my dream about ten years ago. I was looking out of my (at the time) loft window, it was snowing gently, fully. Fat flakes. Coasting down. Softly white, under a bluish-grey night sky. I looked across the road, and a friend of mine in the loft across beckoned to me, to join her. She was having tea in her attic, and would I join her? Why of course, I replied, as I crawled out the window, onto the sturdy branch of an old tree in my front yard. I climbed through the tree effortlessly, and it wasn't until I got to her attic, that I realized I hadn't even left my own house...only my consciousness had gone across. I knew this because looking down at myself I had no form. But I still had vision, and speech, hearing. All those things. It was as real as if it really happened, and I sincerely think it did happen.
Trees hold miraculous powers, and so do dreams. I have a personal theory about them actually, I think dreamtime is our time of learning to focus our minds (or conscious selves), to get lucid, to get control. We upload and download during our "unexplainable by science" sleep time.
Funny how science fails to explain sleep. A seemingly most basic of necessities. We couldn't exist without sleep. Not for long anyway. So I ask you...is consciousness dependent on sleep for its own basic needs, much like our bodies depend on air to maintain our physicality? For ages we've been trying to explain the function of sleep for us to survive physically. Science can't explain it. They CAN'T. So, is sleep then for the soul?
Yes. Yes it is. :D
Okay, clearly I've had too much time to ponder this. A song, one I'll always love. It's me, my cigarettes, my red lipstick and my doc martens. I'm 14. I'm a dreamer. xoxo
p.s. by the way, I no longer smoke. It's no good for the soul! (One must remain clear.)
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