12/15/2023 –
Knowledge and conversation with your holy guardian angel. I’m thinking about how if you conceptualize our bodies as tech or machines (which is something I’m not a fan of), then you have to concede that most tech that we’re designing, is us trying to replicate that original tech, which is inherently backwards. Obviously. We already are tech that’s far more sophisticated than any of the 3rd rate knock off tech of the base tech that we are, is ever going to be. It’ll only ever be a whack approximation. Spirituality is merely the philosophy that we should work with what we already have, rather than trying to reverse engineer re-create it. Gee, it’s almost like that philosophy has always existed and us ignoring it might have something to do with the climate crisis.
Anywho, while I’m contemplating this I’m now flooded with this vision of a shadowy shaman figure with glow in the dark energy orbs lighting his chakras sitting down meditating in the middle of a grassy clearing. This far away from any kind of light pollution the glorious timelessness of the galactic expanse looming above us pierces the veil. Everything is interconnected like a glowing neural network in the sky. As above, so below. As within, so without. He becomes one with the vastness of the upper expanse.
All that money on spaceships rather than this obviousness. Knowledge and conversation. I contemplated a concept internally, “they” chimed in with this vision. This is how astral telepathy works.
Outside of that a ton of crazy vignettes but I only remember a few.
I’m walking in a bizarre alternate reality where we’re on these raised urban curvy concrete walkway sidewalks with curvy concrete walkway sidewalks above us. It seems more contemporary than sci fi and I’m walking my dog approaching another woman in a long yellow overcoat on my right hand side. She’s also walking her dogs but there are 3 dogs stacked on top of one another, all different colors of long-haired Irish Setter. When I see this I immediately think to myself:
“Oh wow, the AI art fucked up there. 3 dogs stacked on top of one another, walking on each other’s back somehow.”
I also think it’s kind of surreal and interesting. I then realize that I’m dreaming and that AI art has once again altered my dreamscapes. Second time this month.
I’m looking at a psychedelic album cover. It’s on a black backdrop with this exaggerated cosmic pink and red lettering and one of those situations where these trippy nebula smoke cloud images are woven into the font. You can clearly tell it’s intended to be coming from the secret depths of our stoned sci fi fantasies and the extra cool lettering tells me it’s from a band called:
“Gannon and Son”
When I google this, the first thing that comes up is an add for the Gannon and Sons funeral home in the UK. The final frontier.
12/16/2023 –
I’m using this flying contraption that’s a combination of rollerblading and an ultralight aircraft with a non-enclosed cockpit essentially. The way this works is that I rollerblade down a hill, then I use the momentum to take flight by sitting back in this black folding lawn chair looking seat. It’s like I have a backpack and this flying device quickly pops out of it, then I sit back and glide around the city from above. It seems like once I get airborne I can pretty much glide around indefinitely, even ascend higher if needed.
Everything about it is very much like a video game and as I look over my shoulder to the right, I’m passing Wallingford several hundred feet over I-5 heading south when I realize that:
“You know, they made a whole virtual open world Seattle in this game and I’ve barely even explored it yet.”
So I take a hard right and start cruising over toward Greenlake. Everything seems to be there but they clearly weren’t going for realism. It’s all a quite cartoonishly distorted version of the actual thing and if I’m being honest nothing is truly making sense here, but since I think I’m in a video game that offers a rational explanation.
I genuinely don’t have any great ideas about what to do in this game. I land on random North Seattle streets a couple of times, just to rollerblade my odd backpack lawn chair ultralight down a hill and back into the sky. Also, I can somehow take at least one more person airborne with me and they hold on sort of like a person on the back of a scooter would. Clearly this is ridiculous but I eventually decide to go hang out at this CD/bookstore joint in downtown Ballard. What’s even more ridiculous is that as I’m walking through the narrow brick outdoor hallway to the shop I look down at my rollerblades. Shouldn’t I be embarrassed that I’m wearing these dorky ass things? Probably, but at the same time, taking them off, then putting them back on again so I could get home would be a total pain. I’ll just go full on dad rock.
These type of stores are a very common theme in my dreams and here it’s more of a book store and the most random person I could possibly conjure from high school is chatting me up. He’s wearing a goddamn excellent poppin’ blue jacket but in a waking state I can’t for the life of me even remember this dude’s name. I remember being impressed with the fit though. Guy had packed on a few but everything about the ensemble worked.
Even though I’m at a book store I didn’t actually have anything to buy in mind and this guy is trying to sell me on this one particular book pretty hardcore. He’s really going through a pitch and I’m listening but if truth be told, both what he’s describing and my opinion of him as a source of quality recommendations is making me question whether this book would be sufficiently my jam. He’s going on and on about how it’s about a young man and how the man is supposed to be a total asshole. That’s the entire point to the book but he thinks it’s great and he’s warning me because I don’t believe he entirely grasped the concept for the first 100 pages or so when he first went through it.
I’m still not sold but I walk away through the wooden racks and I see the book and realize it’s a graphic novel and I’m all:
“Oh, I get why he was recommending this, because I’m not a huge fan of fiction books. I like pictures with my fiction, you know, because I’m kind of stupid.”
I flip through the thing and it’s got a very dark pencil colored vibe with splotches of red pulling through. Just with my little flip through I can tell it has a lot to do with a young man impregnating multiple women in a school like setting and there’s def a body horror thing going on. It’s pushing the same buttons as the Dead Ringers series that I just watched, which is mainly: why do we typically avert our eyes from childbirth? Why is there a bit of an ick factor to it for most people? It ain’t selling me on the book, that’s for sure, even though I genuinely enjoyed the Dead Ringers show. Recommended.
Anywho, I wander around the store for a while and am genuinely contemplating how I’m sort of an asshole because I hang out here all the time but I never buy anything. They have CD’s too and of course I look through and find nothing I want. I feel like I should leave because I’m genuinely not even finding any books or music that I want to pay for, and yet I’m taking up space.
So I leave and apparently pick up my wife somewhere along the way in my backpack lawn chair ultralight rollerblade machine. Now I’m in a car and something my wife mentions to me reminds me of all these other dream adventures I’d already forgotten.
“Oh, yeah. I was pretty drunk last night and my friend dropped me off back at our place apparently but I don’t remember that even happening.”
And all these memories start shining back into my spirit. There’s always so much going on here that I can never bring back or configure into a waking human narrative format. Parties withing parties within parties.
12/17/2023 –
I’m in this class with the cool younger English teacher from my middle school days. The class starts with him playing this intro track to an album I haven’t even released yet. I’m impressed that he’s apparently a fan of my music. Eventually we get to a point in the class where we’re all doing this exercise and he asks that I lie down on my back while we’re doing this. I’m the only one in the class that’s supposed to lie down while this is happening and I have no idea why honestly. So I do and as I’m lying back all these boring papers and manilla folders float through my consciousness. When the exercise is over, I have no idea what the point to the exercise even was in the first place.
But then the teacher puts on the same track I wrote that he had on at the start of class. This time it pulls me out of the classroom like a magnet and into the hall on my wheeled desk chair. I’m rolling into the unknown halls of the school on a wheeled desk chair when the dream ends, pulled by the power of the sound.
Also, while you're here, do you like psychedelic industrial noise rock? Of course you do!
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