awake, I am without
Apr. 18th, 2008 08:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thanateI'm awake, although this may be a mistake, as my eye sockets feel like they're papered in some kind of glue or wax impregnated silk-- something crinkly and semi-translucent that doesn't bend easily and is stretched a little too tight across the edges. It's wearing off, which is good, but there are things I should be doing...
I had a dream last night that I only remember bits of now, and not the driving point behind it. But there was a pseudo-college like situation, in a city, where a bunch of friends (possibly with Claire Bean leading) dragged me to this odd little corner restaurant where you weren't allowed to talk, because it was run by some odd eastern order of monks who had taken a vow of silence. Only the proprietress was talking to us and explaining the rules and how we weren't allowed to talk or anything (and I remember being surprised by this). And we all got seated at a round table, fancy tablecloths, kind of fabric-drapey eastern decor, and then there was this set up which (awake) reminds me a bit of an opium den. After you have your meal, you get ushered off to a little room in the back, bare, bathroom-like, and have some sort of odd mystical dream experience. Only mine was not just weird, but explaining to me some kind of urgent way to save the world... and this is the part I can no longer remember. Except that, instead of being just a strange dream within my dream, it was actually true, because I came out of the strange existential experience with a physical thing-- a large piece of cloth on which was painted/printed/written everything I needed to know to remember the important parts of the dream and what I had to do next. And I had it folded up and tucked under my arm, only it made a large-ish roll (like a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, perhaps, in size) and I had to make sure no one else noticed it and asked me about it, because I couldn't let the restaurant monks know I had it. (don't ask me why they were all monks when half of them were female, not to mention why anyone would ask me anything if we weren't allowed to talk...)
And then I woke up, and it was about 7 am, and then closed my eyes and another 20 minutes disappeared, and then I got up. Possibly from some remaining sense of urgency left over from the dream, I'm not sure. But I'm sorry to have lost the roll of cloth, because all urgent save-the-world instructions aside, it was beautiful. Bits of screen-print calligraphic lettering all mixed up with flowing painting... sort of like some of the nicer abstract pages of the St John's Bible, only prettier, and wall-sized.
I had a dream last night that I only remember bits of now, and not the driving point behind it. But there was a pseudo-college like situation, in a city, where a bunch of friends (possibly with Claire Bean leading) dragged me to this odd little corner restaurant where you weren't allowed to talk, because it was run by some odd eastern order of monks who had taken a vow of silence. Only the proprietress was talking to us and explaining the rules and how we weren't allowed to talk or anything (and I remember being surprised by this). And we all got seated at a round table, fancy tablecloths, kind of fabric-drapey eastern decor, and then there was this set up which (awake) reminds me a bit of an opium den. After you have your meal, you get ushered off to a little room in the back, bare, bathroom-like, and have some sort of odd mystical dream experience. Only mine was not just weird, but explaining to me some kind of urgent way to save the world... and this is the part I can no longer remember. Except that, instead of being just a strange dream within my dream, it was actually true, because I came out of the strange existential experience with a physical thing-- a large piece of cloth on which was painted/printed/written everything I needed to know to remember the important parts of the dream and what I had to do next. And I had it folded up and tucked under my arm, only it made a large-ish roll (like a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, perhaps, in size) and I had to make sure no one else noticed it and asked me about it, because I couldn't let the restaurant monks know I had it. (don't ask me why they were all monks when half of them were female, not to mention why anyone would ask me anything if we weren't allowed to talk...)
And then I woke up, and it was about 7 am, and then closed my eyes and another 20 minutes disappeared, and then I got up. Possibly from some remaining sense of urgency left over from the dream, I'm not sure. But I'm sorry to have lost the roll of cloth, because all urgent save-the-world instructions aside, it was beautiful. Bits of screen-print calligraphic lettering all mixed up with flowing painting... sort of like some of the nicer abstract pages of the St John's Bible, only prettier, and wall-sized.