i correct my last post. I had another dream 'with' my friend Karl. This time he was normal and friendly. He was, together with another man, with us at a meeting just to talk to them. We could ask them questions and at one point i asked a few very direct questions about ...? . It felt like a revoluniary, 'underground' meeting. At the end the meting was broken up by men from the  'secret' police branch taking us away. But i felt unconcerned, lighthearted, discussing with an old airforce friend the topic of flying airplanes.

In another dream, Simone and I were looking for a house. We found a tall round one with lots of glass windows, many floors, a 'room' like a kitchen in the garden, and a lovely big round guestroom at parterre level. She was eager to buy but I was suspicious about the low price and haconcerns about how cold the house would be in winter.

dream

Another dream last night with my friend Karl in it. We were in a family house somewhere getting ready to sleep. For some reason he was not happy with what I did/was doing. We lay down to sleep in different parts of the house. After I short while i got up to find a better place. In my dreams he always has a different aspect to other 'characters' in my dreams. He is not the friend of my memory, but more a distant spectre.

Why why why

 trouble seems to start as soon as we ask the question 'Why'. Why is that ;-)


it's winter's turn again and the trees as dressing up in anticipation of her arrival. time for northern exposure and leonard cohen re-runs.

re-legion

At the heart of religion is the human need to find solace. When we are at our wits-end we turn to God, Jesus, or Allah, Reason, Nature, our Ancestors, Ourselves, Etc.  And there we find an explanation, comfort or peace.

Delta of Lila

A certain perspective on life came to me this morning. Live is a play, a lila, a story that is being told through us, through everything. We are actors following the script of our life-novel, and sometimes, seldom, we are also writers, co-creating this received story. But the story has a life of its own and even when the master shapes and edits it, she ultimately lets it flow as it wishes through the delta of Lila.

shaken by dreams

Dream of the child and the lost Anima

recurring darkness of the drunk mind

Uncontrolled drinking (of alcohol) is like uncontrolled thinking; only more destructive.  i am a recovering thinkaholic. a borderline desctructive. each moment to pick myself up from the haze ... again, and again. 

to be clear of the mud, the dirt, the negative smut, the dark bile of self-harm. 

the poisonous half-dead insinuating itself into the now and strangling it. stillborn.

oh to live in that sunlit patch of eternal peace. to see the head of the untrue rising and soberly watch it slither away. like an Enlightened Knight on her white horse of noW.

TO PEACE MEN!

start again.