to not have dreams december 18th

would be a blessing to wake up not happy not sad but just to wake and go about my day as someone with no feeling or I just gatto do this or that and not anticipation of things that are good and the balance of the universe doesn't matter to me.

but no...id and superego continue their battles when will the war end...

in our little pocket of green and blue high up in the tree tops be he keeps me balanced and rests my head on his lap i don't know why we don't fall he must be talking to the wind and the trees and the sun to keep us aloft but also soft murmurs to me that have no real form but only just meaning and I understand him I think it must be the rush of his blood that murmurs to me through his skin and sometimes when he bends down to press his lips against my forehead the whisper of his breath calls our name and shelters us from the wind and absolute strength of the sun

although my eyes are closed I can see all of this knowing it intuitively the emerald green of the leaves and the sapphire blue of the sky and as my awakening draws near how do I only realize the scent of him now but for days surrounded he protects safe and warm

as my awakening draws near and the reality weakens the protection of his soft whispers and sweet scent becoming more powerful overwhelming yet leaving with the coming reality my vision become clearer through the closed eyes and I see vermilion blood on the emerald green leaves (blood on the leaves - blood on the roots) too much too much the stars shine through the sapphire sky blood red and the sun is beginning to burn his scent is too strong and the murmur is a roar

/////and awake/////

somehow only safe and happy in my sleep awake now and feeling like something of value has been taken from me

swing my legs down from the bed, step on an upturned bottle cap, and cut my foot

blood on the roots

glamour