Saturday, June 07, 2008
From my notebook 04/04/91I remember waking up and thinking "that was a good dream". Now I can't remember what it was that I dreamt. It pisses me off that I'm so creative in my dreams yet when I wake I cannot seem to find any coherent images of metaphors that have not been used one thousand times. My dreams all seem to be of travelling and changing, yet in real life I get nowhere! "Travelling and falling, these are the best dreams you can have." This, accoording to the Senoi, the dream - tribe via Le Guin. What lies at the end of dreams? Life is a cul-de-sac with a decidedly dead end...not a very good metaphor, but..from the nipples of the mother-goddess flow the milk of life. An even worse metaphor, then..Labels: harrogate dreams metaphors godawful 1991
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