Soon I will be writting in Spanish. I am just leaving a language for another, like this, like a lazy lazy contemporary guy... I am pretty proud of myself. I am not messing with anything for too long, I am like this. So I could die soon, I don't mind. My mouth speaks the truth, my mind is living on the edge. The thing I like more about life: anyone may crackdown at any time. Fall or crack, at any time, never know when neither where. It's the crackdown. I don't think everything is illusion, because that last concept has been over-soiled. I just can't believe what I see, I am astound and desperate. I'm like: "What's this?! Did it had to be that way?!"

Aureliano had chosen Remedios. Why? She was the only one still weting is bed. They had to wait after her puberty before their union was to be consumed. Aureliano had that steel conviction, almost stupid, well that's love. Remedios didn't understand anything. Well did she really understand nothing? I guess everything was kind of magical for her. She was kept in her house with her toys, not having any bad toughts, almost any toughts at all: puberty had not changed her. How pure is that? Aureliano and Remedios were to be together, it was simple, Aureliano had find his love. Remedios was to love him, first by strangeness, because she was living her young magical existence, and then she would love him for he was to be the only masculine figure around. And he would love and adore her, and care for her. There would not be much questions or hesitations, how perfect. Had she seen the little boys hanging around, with their lazyness and futility? She would have had a wide variety of choices, in fact it's the same thing: she would have had no choice of falling in it, falling for someone, then another one with something stranger, then another one who was simply the one she hadn't noticed she loved. Did Aureliano saved her? Well, who can say what's right or wrong these days... Multiple love affairs, falling in love all of the time or devote yourself to single adoration and grown affection. That's just anything, anything, and there's nothing good, just anxiety. And small pieces of happiness.

Fli

Yeah, the cop story that was coming.... well, you'll be a bit disapointed, because there is not much action. Rereading my last post about another dream that I had, I found that there was not much of an action, no particular details about the dream itself. And the fact is that it's true that I am not really giving any precise details 'cause I don't remember about it, so don't expect the telling of a dream like if I was telling you a story. It happens frequently in litterature that dreams are told like if it was a story with a detailed environment an a detailed tail... well, it's not really how it happens.

Let's start with a general consideration related to the dream I am ready to tell you about: have you ever noticed (I say that formaly, because everybody has) how selfishly we think in a dream? I mean, even more that in real life. It's even more obvious and embarassing in "life or death" situations dreams. I don't really remember what I did wrong, but I was fleeing away from the Justice. Not exactly I was fleeing, but I knew that I was suspected for something, so I was keeping on the lockout. I was driving in a kind of highway (when I am driving, in my dreams, its always on a highway or some kind of deserted road). So, I was driving in a really clumsy way, as ever. I was getting out of hand, carried out of course in the off-road, in a word I was out of control, as I always am in my dreams. Suddenly, I crossed a cop car: bad news. They abruptly turned back and chased me. I offered no resistance, and stepped out of my car. I was desperate, I was facing serious jail time. I knew that my life was going to be messed, it was the worst thing that could happen, I was caught and about to live a hell time. Again, (like in the other dream I told you about last post), nature was so bright and marvelously desolated. That's the only thing that made me feel good. Lets get back to the action. When I was out of the car, I stole one of the two policemen' gun. It was not an intense scene, I just stole it, I think they were almost laughing. And then (and that's wild, I never did that in any other dream before, really it was so bold by myself...) I pointed my weapon toward them! I was about to shoot them, or one of them! I remember perfectly my reflexion: " If I shoot him, I could get in even deeper trouble, so I should not do it." How selfish!! But the fact here, it's that I didn't shoot any of the two, and turned the weapon over me! again, its my reflexions that I remember the most: "I could suicide, and it would end everything, I would have no trouble anymore." I then turned my back to the cops. I had a small reflexion about the fact that they could should me in the back. Here's what I tought about it: "I much prefer dying that way that they should me when I look at them, BUT, I am affraid that they miss the killing target and that they just hurt me, it would be more painfull." But I also tought that they could not shoot me in the back that way. I was kind of on a bank. The road was alongside the sea, just a little higher. So I looked at the sea, and tried to get deep tragic toughts about my situation. I was kind of disturbed by the presence of the two policemen. God, it was strange... I was having toughts about suicide, I was trying to get some courage, trying to convince me that it was better, but I was hanging to this life, I was affraid of the big nothing awaiting me... Should I shoot me, it would end everything, but... if it was more? if there was a chance for me to escape from my desperate situation? But if I shoot me, what will happen? A big nothing?? I was so scared, front of the sea, disturbing policemen behind me, and I was about to shoot me. I admit, I had the courage of doing it, and you know what gave me that final push? I suspected that I was in a dream!! So I pushed the trigger... And that's the thing I remember best from my dream: the sound, the texture of the bullet coming out of the gun, the sensation of it... The end.

Telling of some asleep dreams.

Agression in a bright medieval garden

The chosen one ... on me as I show them that I can fly. But it's not the same thing when I am doing it for showing them. I kind of lost them in a messy crowd that is not human, but that is mostly disturbing. I sense that they are busy at something else. I can see that from above, it's like a Bosch crowd, like an insect cloud. I can't remember how was my flight, because what happened next was so powerfully traumatizing, that it is what I kept in mind when I awoke and tried to hang to one picture of my dream. It's a sumum of an humiliation scene that reveals me what I am haunted with. I've been mocked, humiliated, but it was so vulgary done, I am so sorry that there was no continuation (or did I forget it??) of my dream, because I would have like to see the reaction of other people. I can just remember the evil face of my agressor (which I know in my real life, and which is indirectly related to my "love" relations. He has a whole particular status in my mind, like everyone I think). I had no conscious bad toughts about him, and at the opposite, I kind of admire him. Which means I must have been envious. What is sure, it's that he was far from letting me indiferent and I considered him like one of the most impetuous person I knew. And God knows he was in that dream. Another thing I can remember of that humiliating moment, its something more vague, and its something that takes no clear position versus me. So I don't really know if the person I remember was sympathic to me or was kind of against me. It happens frequently in my dreams that my best relations turn against me. It's simple, I think they know me, so they know what I am bad for and what I am doing wrong, what I am laughable for. So that's why they always turn against me in my dreams. Do you imagine the adversity??! I only find friends in some cold emotionless mysterious figures that I don't know. Usually they don't say a word and they don't express a feeling, otherwise I would take it bad. So it leads me to think that the person, the main attender of the scene was kind of with the agressor, but I really am not sure. And the more I think of it, the more I think he was neither with him neither with me. He sure understood a lot of things, but all in his way, like he was not implicated, which is good for me. It's funny, I see only his head in a messy carnavalesque crowd. Like a head floating, what makes him like a spirit floating. Generally, this dream (and I am finding out about that right now, as the images take form) seems to have a lot of Middle-Age and Renaissance imagery... how weird is that? Lots of pictures are like Bosh paintings, mostly the edenistic ones, and for that also there are some pictures that are reminders of how I picture Le Roman de la Rose, a medieval analogy novel. In the agression scene, I felt like a character of a violent medieval story trying to flee and cover himself from the agression, in a eden garden or forest. It's weird how luminous nature was in that dream, how bright and medievaly edenic it was... Maybe it has to see with the subject of my dream, which is intensely related to the obsessional themes of medievists. Well, that theme is haunting in each Age, but in my mind, it has a really particular flavour in the medieval context. I feel like I am resurecting that humanity... They managed to create an imagery that is so marvelous and that sublimates the subject of obsession. So it kinds of put in scene everything but the subject of obsession; that is the best.

(tonight or tomorrow: a cop story! well, not really... but you'll see, it's another dream made in the same night)

"You want to see the sky, just put a window in your eye" But your eye is liquid, I cannot breathe. That's perfect, languishing spanish ink with green and purple glints. I swim up to the surface, I am so wet, hallucinated, spanish glints sea, I'll never be the same. I cannot stay in the waters forever. On the bank fizzy fairies are dancing in the wind. So young, so fresh, bubbles smiles bubbles eyes, and I am young again, I'll never be the same again. What do you learn in school? School? What's that? Books? Heroes? Your book and your dreams, my fairy. Words, mooves, looks, and I am crazy.

Waking up, new light. I once was lost in that chinese austere and full-of-mysterious-expectations-and-coldness world. Tried to tell myself that there was nothing more. It broke my heart, felt in another dream, and I don't recognize my chinese faces anymore, they lost their charm (I mean, I forget...), they left it in some past faces, fixed forever, and that forever will end soon, where bubbles will pop again and my brain go crazy for it.

Love is never boring, but I am exhausted. I've traveled all around the world, where the sea tastes gum, metal, ink... Lost, found, lost, found, my explorers, endind in the pub of low imagination, or sleeping till inspiration comes back, at the edge of an hair, of a finger that is so soft it is creepy love. Creepy love, pudding, yaourt culmination. Creamy fairy, don't jump to hard, or if you do, take my hand. Even without seing each other, we are in the yaourt together and that's everything. Is everything that I say just getting you hungry? Well you don't have to open your eyes and look, it will burn. Just taste. Doudooudou, my raspberries! Little perfect worlds, you're not vessels? What really is moving? We usually ask the wrong questions, we are so wrong, I am the extraterrian laugher! Suffocating in my pudding! Stop, now there's just air, I don't understand... I have no consistancy, nothing, nothing... Now I don't believe in any form of body. The states are messing with me: air, liquid, gaz, all the same.

Un nageur dans l'oeil

Mon corps aurait besoin d'être constamment traversé par un fluide ou par la fumée pour être bien. Alors je pourrais écrire de belles choses au-dessus de la réalité. Si j'étais un petit poisson fendant l'eau, ou une taupe creusant la terre, j'aurais ma petite vie magique. Trop de possibilités en moi m'empêchent de choisir une vie. Ceci fait de moi un halluciné errant, un impuissant diront d'autres. Par mon corps, je suis devenue une charmante comédie. Par mon esprit, un gâchis dont je ne soupçonne plus les abîmes.

J'ai créé un monde merveilleux pour Alice et Anet, il est fait de bulles de lumière, de vent liquide blanc et de soleil rose. Lorsqu'il y a musique et danse, cela vit. Lorsque la musique s'arrête, il y a une attente, le monde est secrètement haletant. J'écoute leur souffle, respire leur haleine, et admire la sueur scintillante suspendue à leurs corps: cela m'inspire.

"...tu ne fus qu'un contraste de lumière blanche me déchirant le coeur. Ton spectre..."

Vous levez la tête et voyez un monde fantômatique en suspension devant vous. Il vous est impossible de vivre sans flotter, mais sans cesse on vous accroche. Envolez-vous dans la vie, et ne comprenez rien. Tout sera curieuse logique, comme un rêve, comme une petite vie magique de poisson ou d'oiseau.