Nightmares

Dreams. I once used to dream quite frequently when i was a child and throughout my middle school years. I found a strange positive correlation between the frequency of my recollection of dreams and my overall sense of creativity. I used to have vivid dreams, dreams of sagas, adventures, mana, chimerical love stories that end in tragedy (isnt it odd that they seemed to always be haunting to some degree). For the past five years or so my dreams have seemed to evade conscious recollection. In tandem with this phenomena is the loss of a feeling of awe with everything... Even now, going into schools and giving a speech in front of a large crowd of disgruntled/half awake middle school studens, i manage not to give a damn about how i do...I said mother when i ment to say father and got some strange looks from people.... Isnt it humorous, ive lost that awe with some things, i tend to find it more of a sense of humility... my exsistence is an act in humility....i found that this perspective has allowed me to view the suffering, hate, destruction, as all absurd....yet i am the most absurd part about it...my apathy...i look on as if there were no morals to be learned, no final telology, only a process of overcoming, in a sense it is with this humility that i am allowed to overcome myself constantly, for if i were to grasp onto any one moment, i would instantly fall back into the spectrum of insane lust and nostalgia.... I find that when i think about the past now i say to myself 'oh...that was interesting now wasnt it....oh well its just synaptic connections now, nothing more...its effects are imminent throughout my world, but, alas, fuck it...i do not desire that which never was, for this nostalgia will not haunt me....but it is a lie... for it does each and every day... the longing for creativity (would i call that precognate nostalgia? for did i ever have creativity...in the sense described of as being able to apply information stored in my brain to new and unique situations? but i guess most people find that description of creativity lacking in creativity, for dont we all preform this each and every day? alas, we try and form an identity by making 'creativity' seem high and mighty, by allowing us to seperate ourselves from the herd....the eternal herd..... Anyways, back to the topic, or was it? i forget. anyways, dreams....last night i had a dream...in my apartment i drempt i was, of all places, in my apartment.. Yet it was different... The layout was different and i was on a hill, a steep hill. It was raining both in the chimera and in the chimerical state of being conscious after waking from the chimera, or would it be lapsing into another one? I forget... Anyways, as the dream/saga/chimera progressed... i remember the house falling over a cliff and consuming everything i had in it... I tried to salvage what i could, and found a keyboard and a few items still untouched... but most of it was destroyed... Given the grave situation i was forced to fly back to america and live with my parents, there my parents were overwhelmed to see me... and i remember putting on a smile when i met them... but for some reason i was dead inside....i neither laughed or did anything, just a sense of longing persisted....as if the consumption of the house by the earth consumed everything that was to be.. all potentiality gone....and returning to see the family left behind...only left a sad chill run down my spine....fuck simple rhymes........ Anyways, it was interesting....i awoke three times last night and this dream stuck with me. It was odd... now im teaching classes and telling people about myself.....im the lame duck, yet i dont imagine any other job being quite as good (with the exception of a few professions that i would esteem to, like composer/ graphic designer/ writer/ critical theorist, ect...) but anyways, i leave with this note........Nightmares and omens come in many shapes and sizes....usualy i have tooth dreams....but not this one...could it be that creativity will come to me? was it just that it never left? or wait, what the hell is this static locality that i am using as a point of reference... oh well......nightmares, so sublte, how the nostalgia of my childhood stays with me.