I am dreaming that I am walking upon my stories while writing them. I want to paraphrase, but I can’t.
I dream about a past lover and surrendering to that prison again, knowing I can’t and leave. Again.
I dream that someone runs off with my backpack, containing my wallet, my passport and my phone. I wake up both terrified and relieved, knowing that whatever defines me and my identity is now lost. My money, my name, my connection to the world.
I dream about the color of the Ocean at the End of The World.
I fall into that image of the Ocean and dream again. I am Venus rising from the Ocean after the entire sexual desire of this World has been ejaculated. One large orgasm of releasing all the low vibrating desire. It’s what activated the Earth Quake, that then triggered the Giant Wave. Some did drown there. Where they went, I don’t know.
I rise, rebirthed and new. It has finally culminated; the desire. The getting lost. The confusion. I can breathe under water, but I’m ready to rise again from the depths of that ocean. The work can begin. The tasty salt water on my skin. Someone has risen with me. His hair is made of wild fish. I look at him, puzzled.
‘I am coming with you,’ he says. Neptune rising from that Ocean with me.