Tuesday, August 14, 2012

A Divine Pastiche of Chaos

     Convoluted and unsettling, my pre-dawn dream was a divine pastiche of chaos: vaguely iridescent, interminably ephemeral, carnally wholesome. Spartacus and I had clandestinely organized a flash mob nighttime circus-carnival, an altogether macabre yet wildly successful undertaking which we staged inside our own urban loft, its 14 foot ceilings, 2500 square feet of wide open space, and sturdy concrete floors easily accommodating the continual incoming parade of wild animals, beasts of burden, angels, sprites, succuba, and the general public. Aside from the presence of a brickwork labyrinth, necessary for accessing the front door, the configuration and dimensions of the dream architecture accurately replicated our current living space.
     I hurriedly wove my way through dank, stale, maze-like corridors, defiantly illuminated only by the moon and stars, who chose to completely ignore the ambient incandescence of the downtown cityscape. I was both master and amateur of ceremonies, an apt yet discordant conundrum. Throngs of people were milling about, unfamiliar yet singularly recognizable, and I had the overwhelming sense that we were "on to something" of such epic proportions that it was almost shameful, a modus operandi best kept under wraps. Wandering through the confines that were once my living room, dining room, kitchen, and bedroom, I noticed everything and nothing. I was simultaneously overcome by anxiety's release and avant garde prescience, and then, there was the aroma of camphor: I was Spirit, inseparable from my surroundings, rendering all previously perceived divisions between "me and them" nil. I heard my dead father laughing, and I laughed with him, my third eye drowning out the palpable, ever-present disapproval of the ignorant and unenlightened. And then, I awoke.

5 comments:

  1. Kris, reading your posts is always such an unconditional delight. There is true rapture in your use and love of language.

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    1. I am glad you enjoyed it, Marty. It was such fun to write!

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  2. After trying to google out all the words you have used in this article, it is a great English lesson for me. I could vivid depict the kind of dream you had. Delirium? Illusion? Over dose of anesthetic drugs?

    I love your choice of words. Feeling quite cultural after reading your post :)

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    1. I think maybe this dream was the result of delirium, illusion, and the end of the weekend. I'm glad you enjoyed reading it...the funny thing is, I really could fit circus animals inside my house, even a baby giraffe!

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    2. Mmmm baby giraffe? Why does it have to be a baby version? Non-REM sleep restores energy while delirium worsens the outlook of cognition. I guess illusion sounds better :)

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