July 2021 –
I had this cool vision where I was sober meditating and spontaneously found myself embodying like a swirling portal of water levitating upside down outside a glass filled with the stuff. While doing so, I could tell that I was causing pleasant reverberations within the water in the glass, and that I was both of those things: the water inside the glass and the inverted floating ocean. Yet another metaphor that our body is but the temporary contraption containing our macro-cosmic soul substance.
I had this other insane dream where I was watching myself give a performance in what felt like a rather old historic landmark type theater. I’m amused and eventually I cut backstage as a disembodied state of consciousness. I’m now hovering behind myself from above. I can feel that I’m about to wrap things up down below and I suddenly realize I haven’t said shit about the book I wrote.
Wait a second, it’s my book isn’t it? I wrote it, not the guy on the stage. The disembodied form of consciousness wrote the fucking thing, not the monkey boy. I somehow sort of half ass force him to briefly plug it as he closes out, acting like I’m his publisher or something. It’s my book, not his. He just edited the thing. Jesus, this dude’s hopeless.
Now I’m the monkey boy and I’m trying to leave the club but I can’t find my car. I finally get the idea to start walking around and constantly clicking my alarm on and off. Nothing. I then realize I can flat out trigger the emergency alarm and I do eventually hear it, floors down in the parking garage I’m now somehow in.
When I finally find it, not only is the thing fucking alive, but it’s a tricked out X-Wing fighter with a slick ass custom paint job. I hop in and there’s this woman already in the car who promptly wraps her legs around my head in the back seat. I’m informed that we’re supposed to pretend that we’re together for this to work.
Things then cut to the disembodied consciousness perspective, which shows me what it saw when I thought I was looking for my car. From its perspective I had just fallen off a cliff. It then promptly jumped in and morphed all Mr. Fantastic style to grab me from the clutches of death at the perfect action movie sequence last second. He then jokingly informs me that I’m far more dense than most of the beings he’s supposed to assist and with that we fly off into the heavens. It is his book after all.
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