These entries have evidently become more than just a dream journal to me, which has become more obvious with each successive entry. In fact, this entry will not feature a single dream but instead will focus on the story of the soundest sleep that I have ever had, it was a dreamless sweet abyss. I … Continue reading Dreams of: iiii (i/iii)
The night before this dream, which is a relatively small dream, I went to a hall of mirrors set up they have built for the Melbourne festival with Lily. I had a really fantastic time, and I felt an intense relief when I saw her, which I was glad to have as I had been … Continue reading Dreams of: iii
The timeless appeal of Shakespeare’s plays may owe their popularity to his apparent lack of interest in maintaining genre. His plays appear to reject the blasé conventions, as reality does more often than not, that plagued his contemporaries as well as the popular film, literature, and theatre of our current era. However, I would argue … Continue reading Shakespeare and Marlowe: The flouting of magic and genre
Written by The Fool. “Do you really think the sphere will respond to our call?” I asked. His response was always the same despite my doubt. In fact, much like the rest of the people in the tribe, I was losing faith in the elder that once comforted us during the Arrival. He speaks of visions … Continue reading The Sphere
Strangers creeping in structures. My consciousness begins in a dreamlike state, though I am vaguely aware of it. I am in an auditorium or a coliseum which I have been in before. I am meeting friends here, and we are getting something to eat. I evidently have arrived first and I wait by a table … Continue reading Dreams of: ii
I pray that your holy land, England, escapes the profane, the wild German boar and the Italian hyena. Island of Shakespeare, may your children save you and your glorious shadows. At the farthest reaches of the seas I summon them and they come From the innumerable past, With tall miters and iron crowns, With Bibles, … Continue reading A cierta sombra by Jorges Luis Borges
Why was I all alone? Must be the way I smile at the imps. Though perhaps it could be my false tooth, split hair and the large dose of ketamine running through my bloodstream - nonetheless I felt stronger in my heart and arms than ever. Though where I am now ketamine seems to be … Continue reading WAGON
