Precisely what is a dream? A certain juxtaposition of words and images.
A blend of memory and perception. A certain feel of liquid probablitites.
I am quite deliberately addressing myself to the whole area of what we call dreams. I've found that when preparing a post, I'll almost invariably dream that night something relating to this juxtaposition of word, sound and vision. In other words, I've been interested in precisely how word and image get around on very, very complex association lines.
After putting together Dystopian Future Dreamscape, I keep playing around with the images and putting it through my Cut Up process, and here is some stuff that started to emerge.
Insight into the tangible and intangible aspects of dreams,
the future is more fluid them it seems
Everything reeks of dreams
the imagery, the illogic, the unexplainable
The usual mixture of rooms and landscapes and streets
that is the mark of The Dreamtime
oscillating between past, present and future
Desserts lead into kitchens and classrooms,
so no area is completely private or completely public
All that is seen and unseen, leads to a
fragmented reality with highly distorted sequences
My waking thoughts dwell on sentimentality of perception
A Strange Experiment with The Calamity of Time
“The dream is a spontaneous happening and therefore dangerous to a control system set-up by the non-dreamers”
― William S. Burroughs
What a horrible strange planet this is.
The dominant species consists of sadistic morons,
faces bearing the hideous lineaments of
spiritual famine swollen with stupid hate.
Hopeless fiends.
I do a lot of exercises in what I call time travel, in taking coordinates, such as what I photographed on a trip, what I was thinking about at the time, what I was feeling, smelling, reading and what I wrote; all of this to see how completely I can project myself back to that one point in time.
Sketches of Dreams
Whispers of Reality
Shifting of Perception
Two opposing forces in transtion
as the day moves into night
I slept and dreamed of sheep
faced people reflected
Hearing faint whispers of reality
Pull yourself together,
Self-control, Self-control,
was the answer
Nobody goes insane,
after all except weaklings
Everything is relevant
Everything is relevant
Nothing is relevant
Parallel dimension, smokeless fire
The fourth state of matter
Freed electrons pulled away
From atoms or molecules
Their ripping his consciousness
away from the body
Unlocking the secrets and mysteries
of mind, matter, and reality
The fourth state is the most
common one in the universe
In rapid succession, following a genetic script
He can’t see the
other side of their face
Their pressure is
Crushing his chest
Some alien entity had taken
over his mind and written that check
Struggle to become you,
in face of harsh truth of reality
Life is a beautiful nightmare and/or wet dream
that's draining away your soul
Thoughts and feelings race through consciousness
making words incomplete, pounding away
at that old 1s and 0s
All these questions with no answers
leaving his consciousness a wreck
alone, beaten and one hot mess
strange vibes of malcontent
we are the mirror as,
well as the face in it
Temple of Saturn
Tales of The future
Entities of Dreams
Only some will transcend the night
Only believers in death will die
What is the density of an egoless plaent?