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Jul. 19th, 2008
Recommendations
Jul. 19th, 2008 12:44 amWho would you recommend that I be reading?
To whom would you recommend my journal to be read?
Just a couple of questions.
To whom would you recommend my journal to be read?
Just a couple of questions.
Dreams of Magically Aware Cities
Jul. 19th, 2008 10:43 amDreamed of a DC aware of its magical lineae, the city being forced open and awake, Hellboy II-style. Had to search for a chain, and a gem, which became a child, which Hellboy had to protect. Something about a mentor to Hellboy, in the form of another large demon/troll creature.
People I know working in pawn and jewelry shops, where I find the gem. Hanging out there, while things resolve themselves, elsewhere....
You know what? Sometimes I just can't convey the impact and resonance. Epic, archetypal battles against dragons, and the phrase "a raven, with red leather feathers. A raven doesn't just Have red leather feathers."
Little clods of dirt which, when held, would errupt into tiny mythical creatures, one of which was another, tiny Wink, also from Hellboy II, and I though "Huh. He wasn't the last one." The character through whose eyes I was watching could hold them without anything happening. The initial stage was evident to him, but the change meant nothing. He handed one to his partner, and it broke apart into a tiny baby porcupine, with Pencils for Quills. His partner refused to believe ofr be impressed, out of spite, for some grievance. The detective started to seriously wonder if he was, in some way, spritually dead, inside. The police were there because any mishandling of the dirt clods resulted in exploded heads and death.
Something about being pinned to a bed by a woman who wouldn't let me look at her. She was desperate; for love, for physical contact, for any connection she could make. I was on my stomach, and she was sitting on my legs, and she kept describing the things she wanted. She had hidden a tarot spread, between my pillowslaid out in a Celtic Cross, but in numerical order. Each card was also a lettr of the Hebrew alphabet, corresponding to its place on the Tree of Life, but sideways. Kether was third, somehow, but also fourth. There were switches next to the cards, on my pillow, and I could flip them to make a sign say important things. The woman kept talking about how she loved Love, even though she shouldn't, that she should Hate Love, but she couldn't. When she got angry, her voice would change; it would deepen, or gain a harsher edge. She tried to convince me tha tthe cards weren't there. She felt like a combination of women I only kind of know.
Weird dreams... Hard to convey... but I need to think about them, I think.
Woke up with "It's Plain to See," from the beginning of Dr. Horrible: Act II, stuck in my head.
Things like that. I need to go.
People I know working in pawn and jewelry shops, where I find the gem. Hanging out there, while things resolve themselves, elsewhere....
You know what? Sometimes I just can't convey the impact and resonance. Epic, archetypal battles against dragons, and the phrase "a raven, with red leather feathers. A raven doesn't just Have red leather feathers."
Little clods of dirt which, when held, would errupt into tiny mythical creatures, one of which was another, tiny Wink, also from Hellboy II, and I though "Huh. He wasn't the last one." The character through whose eyes I was watching could hold them without anything happening. The initial stage was evident to him, but the change meant nothing. He handed one to his partner, and it broke apart into a tiny baby porcupine, with Pencils for Quills. His partner refused to believe ofr be impressed, out of spite, for some grievance. The detective started to seriously wonder if he was, in some way, spritually dead, inside. The police were there because any mishandling of the dirt clods resulted in exploded heads and death.
Something about being pinned to a bed by a woman who wouldn't let me look at her. She was desperate; for love, for physical contact, for any connection she could make. I was on my stomach, and she was sitting on my legs, and she kept describing the things she wanted. She had hidden a tarot spread, between my pillowslaid out in a Celtic Cross, but in numerical order. Each card was also a lettr of the Hebrew alphabet, corresponding to its place on the Tree of Life, but sideways. Kether was third, somehow, but also fourth. There were switches next to the cards, on my pillow, and I could flip them to make a sign say important things. The woman kept talking about how she loved Love, even though she shouldn't, that she should Hate Love, but she couldn't. When she got angry, her voice would change; it would deepen, or gain a harsher edge. She tried to convince me tha tthe cards weren't there. She felt like a combination of women I only kind of know.
Weird dreams... Hard to convey... but I need to think about them, I think.
Woke up with "It's Plain to See," from the beginning of Dr. Horrible: Act II, stuck in my head.
Things like that. I need to go.
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