After scanning the concept of lucidity in dreams, I practiced this and found that it worked quite well. Once the dream began to unravel much like the prior dreams, I told myself that I was dreaming. It was realized, and I transmogrified the environs into a futuristic desert where I had to race against time to escape the dune-monsters. Fantastic and surrealistic, yes, but an escape from the repetition of which I had been undergoing.
In lieu of ugly frustrations nevertheless, I had been working in such fervor on an assignment for career & development only to accidentally close Microsoft office without selecting save as. In a great momentum of frustration and ugly fury, I closed it and quit for the time being. Of course I will attend class tonight and bite down on my pride and pretend that I hadn’t done such a mindless act to my own work. I suspect this act of idiocy is rendered from my mind’s desire to daydream about other forms of interest, to include my recent work on mastering every form of poetry. Perhaps I am too overwhelmed, and that is the curse. Perhaps it is just overboard exhaustion running amok. Whatever the case, a session with a concerto shall rewire my mind.
This Sunday I am going to visit a chapel to listen to an organist play, I am delighted at this discovery. It was actually handed to me from my significant other who had explained the building to me in great length. Once those words “they still play that organ” passed his lips, I knew I was going to find a way to go and listen. I’ve been a constant fan of the pipe organ since the earliest age of 4 years old. A woman who babysat me would sometimes play old 45’s containing the extended organ works of Bach. I’d sit on her couch eating the healthy snack my parents shipped me with and fantasize about nature while listening to the music. I’m also a fan of rock music and everything in between to include specific operas, concertos and we cannot forget Swan Lake. Music in itself is a form of love that has always been a huge part of who I am, and will continue to be until I one day retire.
Not much else has raised its head in my midst; I had been dealing with the husband of the married couple consistently venting of his situation. I listen, though I don’t much like it. Too much of what he speaks of reminds me of memories I have long since forgot of my abusive ex and his menacing ways. Another aspect of this scenario which bothers me was that I saw the wife as a friend at very first, but now her psychology seems almost accurately wired to the tune of a narcissist. My heart goes out to the poor children involved who will unfortunately experience some painful times ahead. I can only send out a prayer for protection over them and hope that they come out of the fire unscathed.
For now, a brief interlude. I shall return later and empty some more of my silence onto these pages. Such a welcoming breath of fresh air, is this.