I see and speak with many people whom I have never met but feel like I’ve always known them.
Around me the architecture clashes like many ages all poured from time, melting into something very real and comforting.
I see islands and spires, roads and valleys, buildings from this world combined into one.

I have seen people die and it bothers me little.

I have soared high above, my thoughts carrying me freely.
I see trains and aerial craft, wooden bridges and highways.
Creatures with a touch of human and humans with a touch of creature.

I see childhood paths and every place I’ve ever lived.

I have passed through solid objects.
I move and destroy things with a single thought.
I pull the ocean higher and accelerate the growth of plants.
I see myself as I have never been, other “me”s of elsewhere.
I have been cut, stabbed, shot, enveloped, burned, blasted, and even impacted the ground at terminal velocity.
But never once have I felt pain.

I breath this world and remember it just as clearly as I know the chained reality.

I visit shops, read books, stay in hotels and sail on boats that also do not exist anywhere else.
I’ve run faster than cars and followed the freeways to their end.
Passed though forests, and rivers, diners and camps.

And if I keep going I will come to a rise.

A gently curving hill that travels up along a cobbled path.
At the summit I turn and can see my world in a hollow.

Beyond, baked earth. Cracked, lifeless, untouched.
I saw nothing more than a few dead trees, bones of mammoth sized sea creatures and secular hills of shining salts.
From here unto the edge of forever is a land so vast and empty that the boundary between the earth and the sky becomes lost.

It’s been so, sooooo long. And my posts are few and far between.

Not sure where I am right now. This post eludes to that, I know, but I am ok. And by “where I am” I mean in life. I’m not in some foreign jail or on some alien planet (although I admit, the latter would be satisfactory).

I plan to update here, I really do, but then it all seems to fade and time presses on.

Forgive me.

I will try harder.

(PS: I’m in the process of scanning and editing all that I have. It might take a wee bit. New paintings might be a bit… ummm… odd.)

What is it all for? Is it supposed to mean something? If so, why is the answer so elusive, so hard to define? In the past, I might have said that life was about love, a pursuit of happiness. I thought I knew what love was on two occasions but at this point in my life I have abandoned that overly romantic notion.

These days I believe that life is something based within the ego. It is something selfish. It is a desire for contentment and comfort. But it seems that no matter what I think I want or what I think I may want to do in this life the thoughts ALWAYS diminish and then melt away back into the nether of nothingness.

This world that every human wades through each day has become little more than a prison for me. I feel trapped by the materialism.  Reading this, one might think that I have a desire to “end it”  with hopes that there is some realm beyond the living but I can assure anyone that there is nothing I fear more than dying – ceasing to exist.

I feel this way because I believe so intently that death is a true end. Meat batteries, that once depleted, are discarded. And like a battery the only purpose we serve in this world is to fuel the things that we are connected to.

So then, what happens when you no longer feel connected to ANYTHING, other than fueling society with your labor?

It’s exhausting and it all feels pointless. Even if I could become involved in society in some creative way I still feel within my heart that it would remain a guise, a lie, incomplete and overall… meaningless.

So what IS working for me?

Dreaming.

Dreaming forever would be happiness for me. If it were not for the need to eat I would gladly – without hesitation – choose to live in my own reality forever.

I must stress however that in my manufactured reality all is not kittens, rainbows and laughter. In fact my dreamworld (at least parts of it) might be considered unpleasant and downright horrific to some. It often appear cold, dark, gritty and full of questionable characters with questionable motives. It’s almost always raining.

From what I’ve heard and read, most people don’t dream like I do. It seems that I am somewhat unique or at least a part of a small majority in this regard. Most seems to have flickers of short scenes based in almost random setting and last little more than a few minutes.

For me though, my dreams are a complete world. Not fully explored but the know regions are connected, mappable and growing. Any two dreams that I have can easily be connected as the crow flies.

Many elements and locations mirror the city that I grew up in but there are still many more places that do not exist in the waking world and they are connected seamlessly with everything else. Some things are misplaced, others overlap. Some distances are closer and some ridiculously separated. The harbour and shoreline are different, as if the ocean level were much, much higher. Railways lead off to places that I know in the waking world they do not go. mainland buildings moved to small nearby islands. There are some narrower streets and neighborhoods that don’t exist in “reality” but they in no way feel out of place. Sometimes these places seem even more real than their counterparts.

Continued soon.

Next up (eventually) – A look at some of the inhabitants.