Lucid Dreams. God. And The Pursuit of Ordinary.

I have been practicing lucid dreaming lately. I've always thought, in the past and even now, that maybe I could figure some things out if I just got inside of my own head... Walked around a bit, you know, take in the sights... 

When I go to sleep at night-- not every night but at least 50 percent of the time-- I've attempted to lucid dream. So far I haven't been able to (I think); but I come close... I often do fall into sleep paralysis so there's a start. The problem seems to be right as I reach the edge of awareness, something very dark, very scary.... very unnerving lashes out at me and I sit straight up in my bed. When I say sit up I mean 90 degree angle, heavy breath; racing heart. If I'm not too terrified I do a reality check to make sure I'm not dreaming.... I never am; though once I may have been... When I started I didn't do reality checks and only recently realized without doing so, I might not be able to tell if I was awake or dreaming. It's not necessarily an image or a creature, but whatever it is frightens me.

 There are other ways to reach lucidity though. Once I had fallen to sleep listening to binaural beats, that music that changes your brain wave pattern. I can't remember much about that experience out side of seeing the purple moon from the video and then the words, "You are dreaming!" blaring into my sub-conscience. I immediately sat up in my bed (there's a pattern in that it seems) and took my headphones off. Why was it so loud? I listened to the music ahead of time to make sure it was low.... I assumed I was just dreaming and managed to infiltrate my own dream with music. Truth is the song wasn't even playing anymore and I had turned down my screen brightness so it was dark, so... yeah confusion. 

I fell back asleep fast and dreamt of biting into a boiled egg only to find a tiny half alive half dead baby chick inside. I had taken a little piece out of its body, a little pink line formed where my teeth had been. I spit it out upset, and had a string of baby chick flesh stuck in my teeth that I had to manually dislodge. As gruesome as that image might seem... It wasn't so much while I was dreaming. It was more comical than anything else. Disturbing... but comical. 

I guess I'm looking for answers; I'm always working towards self improvement. Every time I think I've built myself a steady foundation, I later find it to be missing key pieces I thought it had. I want to fix it. I want to fix me.

A few people have told me I should be looking to religion for help. I say, it's not my time to discover that. God and I already have an understanding; a spiritual connection and it has been an integral part of my survival thus far. Other people say it's all in my head. I kind of agree with them.... (duh! that's why I'm trying to get in there!). I just feel... that if I can manage to get off of my self loathing rear and do a few things with my writing, I could be...

I bet you would like to know how that sentence was suppose to end. Just know I wrote it; rewrote it and rewrote it again. There was no possible way for me to write that sentence, without giving it a morbid ending. How terrible of me.

Collegiate Postpartum Depression

Hi,

My name is Bree and I suffer from Collegiate Postpartum Depression or CPD for short. What is that you ask? Oh, it's just a terrible horrid disease that is currently afflicting my every being. Symptoms include loss of hope in finding an actual career, boredom at current job, anxiety about the future, excessive hobby joining behavior and --sometimes-- extreme procrastination.

How's that for an opening paragraph. Sometimes I feel like I have little to nothing when it comes to talents. There was nothing special about me in elementary school. I remember my best friend back then loved to draw. Even if she's not a well know or even a struggling artist now, I remember that being her passion and she was pretty good at it. Not so for me. High school came around and once again no special talent fell upon me. 

 Now that I have put in the four... five... oh let's not play the counting game... but the numerous allotted baccalaureate years in order to get my adult green card, I feel even more further from my life purpose than ever before.

Everything I'm good at EVERYONE is good at. I honestly don't feel special in any shape or form. In fact, I have plenty of things I need to work on; so many I don't even know where to start. Ancient Bree Confucius wisdom states, "In order to have a hand in being successful, one must have a hand in successfully having a hand in being successful." 

No one ever said it made sense. 

Even though I am not suppose to measure my success with any one other person's, I can't help but feel like I fell asleep before the big race and now am playing 'catch up' for what will probably be the rest of my 20 something life. Even Hank Hill from the well accepted television show 'King of the Hill' felt he had a life purpose in selling propane and propane accessaries. As mediocre as it may have seemed, well, those items weren't going to sell themselves.

I just feel like 'we', whomever we are, have this destined for great things feel about our lives, but overlook the fact that we are missing a few key components when it comes to making it to said destination:

1. Tried and true belief in ourselves
2. An actual path to follow
3. The willingness to work hard for our dreams
4. Dedication
5. Ability
6. Luck and the list goes on...

And on and on it seems. That list goes so far on that I think I'm afraid to see where it ends. Maybe Hank and I have more in common then I give credit. I don't want to be an actress, or an orchestra music... player person ( I'm sure there is an actual name for it). I just want to have something, a piece of that pie. Start something, work hard on it, and reap the benefits of it; just like you would a farm. Plant a seed, nurture it, and harvest the crop. I honestly just don't know how I'm going to get to that point.

Posting and What Not I Guess, Maybe Ugh!

I need to post more. tell your friends, to tell their friends to tell my friends (wait I don't want all of them reading this) so tell someone else's friends to check me out, and maybe I will start writing more. (she typed feverishly). I'm just so.... not happy with myself right now. I need.... something to hold on to...

Like Used Paper Towels

Like Used Paper Towels

Your love,

Is like used paper towels

All crumbled around, to see

There's nothing

Nothing

Left, to clean

There's nothing

nNothing

Left for me.

And I find myself wondering

Why

Oh why, else could there be?

And why oh why me?

Do you think, that I, would ever

Be free?

From your love

Your love....it's using me

Your love, oh

Is using me,

What belongs to you

And what belongs to me

Whomever

Wherever

These tears are to be

No warmth

No,

Nothing for me.

To dry my tears on

No 'sort of'

Just nothing.

For me

Your love

Is like, used paper towels

Nothing

Nothing left for me

To dry my tears

Nothing, nothing

For me.

Your Woman

I can't believe I'm still in love with him.... I have been dreaming, thinking, hell craving a chance to just say all types of things to him....and even though I will be getting the chance to later this month, I don't think I can even get out 10% of how I feel about us. How unfair. I refuse to be a harlot. To throw caution and the foundation I've recently built to the wind just because your feet are finally planted on the ground. Why is this happening? For a short while I thought it was a gift, but I'm starting to believe it is a test. To see how faithful I can be. To see if I can move past the world that is the past into the present and future.

I think I'm over thinking it (definitely). I think I'm also setting myself up for failure. But why? why do I want things to fall apart? I know what's good for me, but I also know what I personally would like. Too often are those two things in contrast of each other.

I definitely need to have a conversation with a few different parties, ie all of the parties involved. Not necessarily together. Plenty of my friends roll their eyes at me now. They are tired of hearing my story. I guess it could get very annoying after such a long time. But I feel like, if my friends had this issue, they would understand why its such a long winded problem. Why It's so hard to throw away 6 long years of waiting, longing, and wanting. And even if they did understand. They will never feel the way I feel, just like I can never feel the way they feel. I know my actions and feelings are being judged. I don't care to hear the many opinions of those who can't get the simple parts of their lifes together. Though, those seem to be the ones with the most knowledge on the subject....

I will be a perfect host for him. I managed to set up two friends simultaneously visiting over the weekend, that way I will be too busy to sit down and sin. Though... three days alone with someone is more than enough time to become a different person.

I pray every night that things can be resolved and I can move on to bigger and better things. I know I will eventually...just not in an easy going sort of way. Everything happens in a kind of difficult sort of way. In a way I'd rather not deal with. Someone always gets hurt.

The Warming Of Night

I want him. I want him to make love to me. I've never felt the burn that is sin and desire like I have for him. He haunts my ever wakening, my slumber too. I find lips pursed, breast tender, and body, alert and in waiting. The thought of his touch arouses me. And his words; paradise. What have I done to deserve such temptation, such beguile and uninhibited desire. Want. Need. I need to feel him. In so many more ways then sexual. I need him to slide his hands beneath my dress, for him to feel the heat of my thigh, the wanting. I need him to press himself against me and breath-- heavily, slowly on the nape of my neck. I want to feel his body --his warmth. I want to feel him. His entirety, his soul.

But maybe She is right. Maybe I am in love with the idea, more than the man. Can you imagine? So many years. So many desires. So much waiting. Can you imagine What would happen if I gave him that keys? If I closed my eyes and let him drive. All he needs is an okay, a signal, a sign. All he needs is for me to let him come into me, In every way a man, can come into a woman. In parts, in whole. In spirit and in mind. All that is stopping him is me. And I want him so badly. Why do I stop him?

Have I forgotten the years past? The ones involving dangerously alluring eyes and lustful thoughts. His words. I dare not speak what my tongue did seek in fear of the retribution that would follow.....And he-- I don't deserve him. He that is noble to me, and my love. But... the other, his hands are strong and rough from his trade, from his manhood. And I, as soft as a lily floats, lay, as always, in open and waiting for a time where that heat-- that fire-- that passion will melt all walls between us and create, bore, that of what a phoenix is made. That scorching of inhibition.

My only regret is not tempting him as he does me. Giving him my full attention, ruining any of his efforts to be good, to be wholesome, to be pure. That and my secret desire, my deliciously private.... one, that would involve, my complete destruction, his complete being. My full attention, his absolute enduring....my God and my everything. His eyes and words and mouth and touch....stalking my every waking, yet desolate hours.

I am a fool for him; and forever will be.  

Was There Ever?

I don't think I understand completely the magnitude of all of my actions. I often find myself wanting to "be in the know" almost all the time only to cringe at the knowledge I've gained. Such is the way of life. I had a dream where the sky turned to night and the stars began to swirl. I think it was the end of the world or something, but it ended with me feeling so much comfort from the thought of a fresh start, a new beginning-- even if I wasn't a part of it.

That's a sick thought for most. But I don't really think so. I think that's a noble one. To want to start over again from scratch. Can you imagine what the world would be like? If every couple of hundred of years everything just restarted? kind of like a giant worldwide reincarnation. What if that's what keeps happening: a mass reboot of the earth to try and get it right before reaching nirvana. My goodness, with thoughts like this, I could be the next L. Ron Hubbard (with better fashion sense, even for me).

I think it is more of me wanting to believe that we, humanity, can have a fresh start. Life would be so much easier with a restart button. or better yet a strategy guide-- walk through if you will. But life isn't a video game. Yet....

I want to be where he is. He as in that timeless beauty that is God; that amazing champion of all that is pure and good in this world. I want to be that pure. I want to be that flawless. I want to have that vision, see clearly what was and is and will be. I want to find that nirvana within myself, that plane of complexity that has formed up until the dying days of earth causes a rejuvenation of its surfaces and ocean ways.

Peace of mind. Mind at peace.