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The dream I had right before I woke up this morning was about me being at another industrial site like so many dreams before. At least this one didn't have a chain link fence around it. I was waiting for a ride home. Everyone else on the job had left already, and the guy I was going to ride with was in a deep conversation with another guy. I waited and waited, but he kept talking. Finally, I walked over and told him it was time to go.
We didn't leave right away. He walked around the job site to make sure everything was locked before we left. It was very inconsiderate to me. As if he were delaying our leaving deliberately. I felt sad and disappointed that he was being so mean.
I woke up to realize I was dreaming and was laying on my bed at home. The dream had upset me. I felt desperate to have found myself in such a dependent situation. After I had been awake for a while I realized the figure in the dream didn't know I was there.
I wasn't. It was the man in the dream who was sad and didn't wanna go home. It wasn't me. Astral traveling can be a mofo if I'm not aware that I'm outta body. I seem to be attracted to sad people when I'm out and about.
Many times it's difficult to realize they don't recognize I'm there. It's up to me to realize I'm not there in person, but at home sleeping, and dreaming, yet without recognizing that I am is a dream, indeed, an abstraction devised of thought alone.
If I am is not my body, but rather a persona constructed of the collective ideas of what sort of person I'd like to be, for the sake of appearances, why is it so tedious for the persona to realize it's a figment of it's doppelganger's imagination?
This situation is a nightmare for me. To be watching and even participating in the life of a person who doesn't know I am is there. It's not their fault that their indifference is something I use to hurt my own feelings. It is me that hurts, not the I am. It's me out there astral traveling. I am is at ho-me in bed. "Sleeping, perchance to dream..."
Trying to explain my dream world to myself gets pretty lame. The conversation's constituents are much too nebulous, as dream careactors seem prone to be.
It's more sane to write about making kefir by fermentation, but I am is a real neophyte using the words the pundits and health food advocates employ. I suppose that my acquiring that lingo is going to be another incremental, step-by-step process that will never end. Rats!
"What need of further miracles?" ~ Siddhartha
Even after 48 hours of working it, the water kefir I made never really turned sour as usual, after the sugar in water solution has been eaten and converted to bacteria dung. Reputedly, the fermentation process consists of the friendly bacteria in the mother culture of the kefir grains eating sugar and multiplying their kind. That causes gaseous stuff and it rises to the top of the sugar water.
Ideally, I would learn to talk the talk and walk the walk about making my own kefir, and reflect my new lingo here as a new blog entry. Here, where I am protects itself against feedback by denial. Nobody knows. They're guessing. I am is guessing. In the end game it's all up to me.
My ongoing dilemma in regard to description derives from the simple fact that at some level, I am is me, yet it's external role is that of the persona. A persona with it's own rules of conscience adopted to guide it into the situations it decides are properly transformative.
I am is only pretends to be me for the sake of the world it dreams is there. To explain itself, as if, without such wordy explanations and descriptions it would be nothing special. Arrrrggggg....
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