Fuck life!
This is what my room looks like right now:
And this is what I woke up to at 4:30 in the morning:
...the toxic water dripping right on my tv set, simultaneously onto my housemate's expensive keyboard and a friend's invaluable cds. Great!
My dream was very intense and political. I felt deeply depressed and wanted to kill myself in it, it was too real. There was a young African man, short, about 3feet tall who could decipher ancient spiritual texts, no one else had this innate powerful knowledge. He was lanky, adorned with traditional African jewelry and had cloth wrapped around his groin area. He never walked. There were white men in dark glasses, suits and ties(agents? bodyguards?) who would accompany him by carrying a wooden pole which he hung by with both arms. I can't remmeber his name, it was very vivid in my dream, and I woke up searching my brain to say it aloud and not let go of it. There was a anti-conspiracy campaign calling for answers to who had killed him. The next scene recapped the series of events before his murder. He and his advisors were among a caravan of rowboats in the ocean on a mission, and before long, three shots rang out and he fell into the water. Frantically, he started to swim away even though he had just been shot. Panicking, one of his advisors jumped into the water to rescue him, captured him and tried to get him back to the boat. But he wriggled free, continued to swim away and then one of his legs, as an side effect of him being shot, became infected and grew abnormaly long and his foot large and swollen. I couldn't stop crying and being so angry about how fucked up this world is, how I wanted to free myself from it, and why so many mind blowing intellectuals and influentialists spearheaded profound movements of resistance had to be assasinated and forgotten, buried by watered down media in the U.S. I wonder if this man existed, I really want to find out for myself.
My friend asked me what book I'd been reading beforehand and it was one my housemate bought me over the break, MUSLIM WOMEN: Voices of Resistance on War, Faith, and Sexuality. I didn't feel there was any connection, other than extreme measures the government and its' militaries will go through to exclusively silence strong ethnic and spiritual communities. Dreams are fucking provocative.
And this is what I woke up to at 4:30 in the morning:
...the toxic water dripping right on my tv set, simultaneously onto my housemate's expensive keyboard and a friend's invaluable cds. Great!
My dream was very intense and political. I felt deeply depressed and wanted to kill myself in it, it was too real. There was a young African man, short, about 3feet tall who could decipher ancient spiritual texts, no one else had this innate powerful knowledge. He was lanky, adorned with traditional African jewelry and had cloth wrapped around his groin area. He never walked. There were white men in dark glasses, suits and ties(agents? bodyguards?) who would accompany him by carrying a wooden pole which he hung by with both arms. I can't remmeber his name, it was very vivid in my dream, and I woke up searching my brain to say it aloud and not let go of it. There was a anti-conspiracy campaign calling for answers to who had killed him. The next scene recapped the series of events before his murder. He and his advisors were among a caravan of rowboats in the ocean on a mission, and before long, three shots rang out and he fell into the water. Frantically, he started to swim away even though he had just been shot. Panicking, one of his advisors jumped into the water to rescue him, captured him and tried to get him back to the boat. But he wriggled free, continued to swim away and then one of his legs, as an side effect of him being shot, became infected and grew abnormaly long and his foot large and swollen. I couldn't stop crying and being so angry about how fucked up this world is, how I wanted to free myself from it, and why so many mind blowing intellectuals and influentialists spearheaded profound movements of resistance had to be assasinated and forgotten, buried by watered down media in the U.S. I wonder if this man existed, I really want to find out for myself.
My friend asked me what book I'd been reading beforehand and it was one my housemate bought me over the break, MUSLIM WOMEN: Voices of Resistance on War, Faith, and Sexuality. I didn't feel there was any connection, other than extreme measures the government and its' militaries will go through to exclusively silence strong ethnic and spiritual communities. Dreams are fucking provocative.