Dreams - Blog Posts
As humans we are born with so much potential and then somewhere along the way society clips off our wings and still has the audacity to ask why we can't fly? 🧚♀️
Just read a story of how this one guy stopped writing because his high school teacher had told him that he'd never make it as a writer. Now he's become the best selling author of two books. 📖📕
We owe it to ourselves to go after the dreams other people think we couldn't achieve. Because how will you know if you don't try?🧩
Like Paulo Coelho said: "it's the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting" 🎗️🏵️
The Secret Life of ME
Ben Stiller's The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013) got some harsh reviews on accounts of being a cliché and of praising the sort of life that only a substantial amount of money can make possible. Some critics even say they'll graciously overlook these because Ben Stiller's just not that profound and we like him for his unique and entertaining humor, not his abstract thoughts. I watched the movie today and I was blown away.
I had quite low expectations because of the reasons above, and my intention was simply to watch something light and to relax. It was light, yes, and it was relaxing, true, but it wasn't at all as superficial as some say.
The title character, Walter Mitty, is a guy, who, after his father's death, became a responsible adult, who had to put aside his dreams and desires, in order to provide for his family and himself. He lived a life, where adventure existed only in the form of fantasies and daydreams. The movie is about his brave moves of going out to the wild and exotic parts of the world.
I admit, even in my brief summary it sounds like a cliché. However, what makes this movie extraordinary is there, among those lines. It's not the story of a man, who's just a little gray piece of paper (even one of the characters says that he imagined him as that) but someone with a past, with hopes and dreams and abilities. I can't stress abilities enough because that's a crucial point in Walter Mitty's greatness. He does the things that he can actually do and not the impossible. In an early scene we see him perform cool skateboard tricks and that's him, not his imagination, him. Now I'm not saying that someone has to be able-bodied or some such thing to live a good life. My point is that this story shows us a guy, who's coming from somewhere and goes on doing amazing things that he's had the potential to do all along. If he's an athletic guy, then it's a good thing he does things that require that.
Another important element of his character is that he wants to travel. You can say that everybody likes traveling and it's their financial states that prevent them from going to see the world. However, this is a misconception. I see people around me everyday, who say they wish they could go abroad and see this and that part of the world but in reality, they're afraid of people, who don't speak their language, they're uncomfortable with hiking, they hate spontaneity and so on and so forth. If pricey hotels with fancy rooms and fluent English concierges is what you want, then that's actually achievable almost exclusively through spending a fortune on it. If you want to see nice landscapes but only without breaking a sweat, here's tumblr, where there are endless photos that you'll be happy with and that's that. But if you're one of the few adventurous people out there, willing to jump in the ice-cold ocean, then you can do that on very little money.
My point with these is that looking at the events in the movie very specifically will make you say that yeah, it's pretty cool but no one can actually do that. But those specific events would take place in the life of that very specific Walter Mitty.
This movie is about the lifestyle that our generation has forgotten but even a hundred years ago it was the prevailing idea. And I remember that when I was seventeen I wanted to be a journalist and travel to the Sahara and climb the Mount Everest. I know, from my own experience, that abandoning these dreams won't erase them from the fabric of my mind, only I can oppress them with the new idea of life. But it's wrong. It's so wrong actually that my fear or reluctance to realize at least some of them has resulted in having me now with a poor heart, probably incapable of climbing the Everest but at the same time, a heart that's aching to do it.
My conclusion is that not all of us are adventurers or journalists and we shouldn't try to be the things we can't be, so it's not necessary to pretend we're Walter Mitty. However, figuratively, our generation's father died and we've become responsible. But it wouldn't be irresponsible to stop playing it safe and stop living petty lives. We complain a lot and believe all the crazy-labels that are put on all sorts of awesome things and I think these two things are on the top ten list of things that are wrong with people of this era. Let's try to change that.
My girlfriend has a peculiar memory when it comes to dreams. Everyday she just tells them in great detail. I think they are as real experiences to her as real events. Well I'm not that kind of person, to say the least, and I'm getting worse at it day by day.
But before we start, I must say, that it isn't a depression-note kind of thing.
Today I woke up, tired, tense and puzzled but there was absolutely no way for me to figure out what I saw in my dreams. The first thing that came to me was this thought: Oh gosh, it could've marked my day, it's good that I don't remember a bit of it. Strangely, though, it did mark my day. It had affected me as if I was just living it all day through.
I think this little thing about me helps us understand: understand me and understand ourselves. We are a new breed, one that has facebook, smart phones and incredible knowledge about the universe. But there's one thing we don't have: an identity. We just start out with a feeling that we cannot understand, nor describe but it's still there, defining our choices. We've successfully peeled back the layers of superstition and natural norms, thus we've enabled ourselves to create a world that reflects our dreams and desires without safe-guards. Unfortunately we've been so efficient in destroying the chains that held our kind back, that we've undone ourselves.
Is the status quo really so profoundly bad? No, absolutely not. But it's still true that we've depleted ourselves, we've negated the essence which made us us. We've forgotten dreams, yet, they are the only things that have effect on us. Who are we? And who am I? No ones. Our struggle to show our worth has concluded in a very thorough worthlessness in our nature.
However, there's still hope. There still is a beacon of light, a guarantee for us, that our breed can become something. We've just got to remember our long-forgotten dream-selves and that's what we have to fight for in order to break the line of facelessness. It's going to be a war. And we've the chance to become the heroes. Let us delay no more, let's beat on, let's alter our courses and find ourselves in the light of purity and beauty.
"What direction - Life begins at the intersection"
It's a Switchfoot quote. OK, I know they didn't actually invent the line but it's in one of their best songs: Faust, Midas and Myself. This piece of music is more literary, than most of the contemporary novels. I'm not gonna add much about the lyrics but the basic question which it implies is whether our goals and dreams are well-thought-out - if we could have them all.
Recently I've been given/offered grand opportunities. One is: two contract offers from a good-named publishing company. It was sort of a before-the-right-time because I decided to continue perfecting my book. I don't even know why I tried to catch their attention. But the amazing thing is, that it worked easy as cake. WOW! Though there's clearly not much that I did. The whole situation is only a link of favourable but un-controlled events. For which I am really grateful.
I must admit, that it doesn't make me special, no matter how much I feel that way. At best, it's a special piece of art, which is worth the mention. But me? Out of the picture. Life often brings us to unprecedented intersections. We are to choose the direction. But do we choose wisely? No. (It was a very strong, firm no...) You know, we could be anyone. Life has no limits at all. Our beliefs, however, can lock us away from the best existing possibilities. We really do believe, that we can't be big people, successful, or simply happy. We let the popular concept take over: we are under too much weight to be getting anywhere in our lives. But in fact, there is no place, nodirection, which we could not choose. I guess the metaphor is as complete as ever...
If it leaves open questions, then answer them, it's on purpose!
Randomness rules!
Had a dream I went to a convention dressed as “butterfly miku” but it wasn’t actually butterfly it was a green miku with moth wings.
Como te extraño mi amor, pero eres imposible.
Jamilys Azócar
Order ""Melophobia" on iTunes now: http://smarturl.it/MelophobiaAlbum?IQid=yt Stream on Spotify: http://smarturl.it/MelophobiaSP?IQid=yt Music video by Cage ...
Son las 3:00 am y mi café sigue frío y a medias. Como siempre, no pude terminar de consumirlo entre tantas letras.
Como escuchar mi canción favorita de “los sordos- Punto y aparte”.
La costumbre fue más fuerte que amarte. Cada día que pasa te alejas más y yo sigo aquí esperándote en el mismo lugar.
Me haces polvo con tu olvido. Ya no me reconozco en el espejo, cada vez me alejo más de mí mismo.
Te quiero, te daré el por qué. Porque simplemente soy una mejor persona cuando estoy contigo.
No sé si te encontré, no sé si serás tú… La verdad no me importa mucho, sólo te quiero para mí.
Las madrugadas me agobian, me saben a ti sin mí.
Desesperada por verte y estar entre tus brazos. Amor no me sueltes, quédate conmigo.
Quizá este sea otro más, otro más dulce recuerdo que sabe a ti. Lo importante es que estas conmigo y la pregunta es “¿hasta cuándo?” “¿te cansarás de mí?” “¿te irás?” el dueño de todas estas respuestas es el tiempo.
Me haces feliz, sin dudarlo pero el café y las letras también. Aunque la soledad es mi única acompañante, la que nunca me abandona aún estando con alguien creo en ti mi amor, creo que en cambiaremos todo eso y podremos ser uno.
El amor no es lo mío pero lo tuyo tampoco. Explorando un poco de tu piel, sabiendo de ti y de tus partes más ocultas pude descubrir que no eres tan acido como pareces.
Cada madrugada sin tus brazos rodeando mi cuerpo, sin tus labios en mi cuello y mis manos entre tu cabello. Mis uñas clavadas en ti por el dolor placentero. Obtener placer a través del dolor es lo que mejor sabemos hacer.
Si tuviera que definir lo que eres para mí sólo diría una palabra “Galaxia”, tú dale el significado.
La verdad es que ya ni sé que más se quiere interponer en la barrera que nos divide, le quieren dar más peso pero eso no me detiene. No podrán borrar lo que te puedo hacer sentir cuando te miro o te beso. Ya eres parte de mí pero… Explícales eso.
Siénteme a través de mis letras si no puedes estar conmigo. Ven y quítame el estrés, la ropa, el aliento, lo que te plazca.
Ya no sé si soy tan mía como tuya.
¿Pero te mereces mi letras? Autor de mis desvelos, autor de mis sonrisas y casi de mi poesía. ¿Quieren saber de poesía? Mírenle mientras me sonríe, mientras nos perdemos en algún universo paralelo del cual sólo nosotros podemos entrar y nadie puede interrumpir, dónde le desgarro la ropa y puedo hacerlo realmente sentir.
Estás en letras negritas en mí vida, cualquiera podría verte a lejos, eres como cualquier otra nube a la luz de la noche sólo que yo le doy sentido y forma. Cualquier escritor podría descifrarte pero sólo uno podría entender y perderse en cada uno de tus defectos y lunares.
A veces me pregunto cómo alguien podría conocerme tanto, no tiene mucho sentido ya que hay veces que ni yo misma me conozco. Sé que sabrías entender por qué cambia mi voz cuando hablo contigo o cuando me enojo. Sé que sabrías calmar mis tristezas y podrías curar mis heridas.
Cada “te quiero” tuyo para mí es un “lo nuestro es suficientemente fuerte para todo esto”.
Quizá es amor pero como no podría amarte si en cada punto y coma estás, si en cada noche te encuentro, si en cada final de mi sonrisa acabas tú. Tan infinito y dulce como siempre.
Y una vez más, el autor de mis desvelos me hace volar entre letras y nubes.
"Hablando de mí reflejada en ti."
Me perdí cuando me perdiste tú a mí.
Me caí, decidí por fin no resistirme más a ese abismo.
La verdad es que no me importa nada.
Siendo realista conmigo misma y con alguno de ustedes, ya no tengo ganas de vivir.
No encuentro ni la mínima razón para estar acá.
Quizá extrañes mis llamadas pidiéndote auxilio pero a la final llegará alguien que te haga sentir mejor que toda la mierda que te hacía sentir yo.
La distancia nos separó, claro que no se llevó mis sentimientos por ti y estoy muriendo.
No pudimos estar juntos y tú pudiste estar con ella, bueno, lo entiendo. Ella no está a unas 10 horas de ti.
Estoy fragmentada por dentro. Mi corazón, si es que tengo está sangrando por ti.
Ya no tendrás que ignorar mis “te amo”, evadirlos no serán necesarios porque ya no estaré aquí.
Me marcharé con nuestros recuerdos y nuestra “felicidad”.
Igual nunca podré reemplazar los tactos de ella, claro está. Yo nunca te he tocado o he podido susurrarte algún poema a tu oído.
Tu espalda nunca sintió mis senos al desnudo, nunca sentiste mis labios con sabor a café en las mañanas. Todo fue una fábula.
Quizá tú eras ese, mi chico perfecto, mi amor real. No sé si exista, porque como me amaste me hiciste daño.
Nunca ser sincera ayuda porque es difícil confiar, creer.
Cuando te llamen o te enteres por algún amigo mío de esos que odias que ya no estoy aquí, que ya no tendrás la esperanza de verme porque estoy a unos cuantos metros bajo tierra quizá si vengas por mí. Quizá si lo dejes todo por nuestro amor y ya no tendríamos que jugar a los amantes mi chico.
Siempre me he preguntado el cómo reaccionarías tú, la persona que más me importa en este mundo si muriese. ¿Morirías conmigo? ¿Recogerías todo los pedazos y lo romperías otra vez para que se hicieran más pequeños? ¿Te dolería que el “amor de tu vida” nunca lo conocieses?
No sé si esto es un adiós, sólo que las lágrimas no se pueden recitar.
No les contaré más de cómo me siento, quizá usted que está leyendo esto ha pasado por esta situación y te informo que no me importa porque jamás sabré si esto les llegará.
Podría hacer miles de cartas suicidas, ninguna fue más real que cuando me dices “adiós”. Me matas sin disparar.
Te extrañé pero no había manera de decírtelo, nunca me escuchaste.
Te miraré desde algún lugar.
Lo peor de todo esto es que nunca sabrán si esto es sólo una apariencia, ganas de llamar la atención o que mi maldita depresión por no estar con él y por no poder ser feliz no me dejó vivir.
Pero, ¿para qué vivir sin ganas? ¿Para qué vivir buscando una razón de ser? Me estoy agotando, me agoté.
Estoy tan rota y tan sin sentimientos que no puedo llorar, sólo sangre y es cuando mi cerebro explota.
Porque me autolesiono mentalmente como físicamente.
Y.. Perdón por esa pequeña promesa que no pude cumplir, dejar el cigarrillo es muy difícil cuando quieres morir lo más rápido posible. Por lo menos cumplí la más importante, te amé hasta la muerte.
Pero usted nunca cumplió la suya, esa misma de que nunca me iba a dejar sola a pesar de todo. Usted me llena y me vacía.
"Save me from myself". No pudiste salvarme de mí misma, amor. No te culpo.
Me acuerdo mi primera vez. Sentía un ardor por dentro, un frío invadía mis pensamientos. Necesitaba algo de luz, busque, busque a mucha gente y me di cuenta que no quedaba nada.
Estaba sola, afrontando mis problemas, llorando en mi habitación sin nadie. Intentaba gritar, todos me veían pero no me escuchaban. No sé si fue una mala idea, sólo se que paso. Me prometí evadirlo siempre que podía hasta que llego el día, no aguantaba más. Lo siento por mis padres, en serio los quería y aunque ellos decían que era una desconsiderada nunca supe bien como expresar mis sentimientos.
Sentía que ardía más, no se cómo explicar esa sensación: es como si supieras lo que haces pero estas en un trance, no lo quieres hacerlo, pero algo te empuja cada vez más. Duele mucho, duele mucho las cicatrices que se ven. Duele verlo y no tenerlo. Dirán que tengo problemas pero cuando no lo tengo a él me siento completa, siento odiarlo por amarlo tanto. Lo necesito, o quizá no, sólo lo quiero conmigo.
En fin, como puedes amar algo o a alguien que no vez. Que no toques, que no sientas cerca de ti. ¿Te lo has preguntado? No mucho pasan por esto, pero yo si. Tengo que tragarme las palabras, tengo que suprimir lo que yo siento.
Yo pienso que él siempre me salva, siempre me llena cuando estoy mal y es estúpido porque nunca he llorado tanto como lloro por él. No es que me haga daño, sólo es que duele que este tan lejos.
No necesito que me entienda nadie, ni yo misma me entiendo, nadie lo hace ni lo hará.
Quien menos piensas me entiende, personas que ni siquiera conozco, personas de mi mundo ficticio o escritores pocos conocidos que ni siquiera saben de mi existencia. Mis páginas, mis lágrimas, mi sangre, mi música. Esas son cosas que me entienden, mis malditas letras y mis malditos libros llenos de sueños. No necesito compasión de nadie, estoy bien así, no quiero que me complazcan en nada, ¿no se cansan de todo esto? Yo sí, estoy harta de la monotonía, de siempre lo mismo, de las lágrimas y la lluvia, de que el sol se oculte para que salga la luna, de que las flores mueran sin agua y de que mi sonrisa solo exista por cosas muy pequeñas y estúpidas.
Quisiera ser feliz y hacer feliz, pero es algo imposible, si no escribo estoy mal, me siento hundida, me siento llena de lagrimas y de impotencia. Algo así como tener su sonrisa en mi cabeza todo el día, como la esperanza del mar y choque de las olas con las piedras. Como los colores del atardecer, como él conmigo y yo sola.
Estoy harta de tratar de decir lo que las personas quieren oír, estoy harta de mis estupideces y de mis locuras sin sentido, pero esta soy yo. No cambiaré por nada ni nadie, romperé barreras, paredes, lo que sea que se venga a mi pero no renunciaré a nada de esto.
Alguna vez pensé en irme de aquí ¿sabes? Y es feo pensar que alguien leerá todo estoy que escribo hoy a las 01:01 am, pero es así, esta es mi realidad y no saldré de aquí por sí sola.
No quiero ser perfecta, no quiero tener un lindo cuerpo, no quiero que todos estén a gusto conmigo, no quiero que les importe, sólo quiero que me quieran por lo que soy y podré llorar y podrán decir que soy muy débil pero soy más fuerte que lo malditos que me juzgan sin conocerme, soy más fuerte de lo que crees o puedas pensar, no lo sé, solo sé que estoy bien y siempre lo estaré, así no tenga una maldita sonrisa que lo pruebe.
Miré hacia el cielo en busca de la luna y me encontré tu mirada y tus versos trasmitidos por estrellas y por las rosas secas en mi balcón.
Dreams Our Dreams
Dreams
Often we meet them in our subconscious state,
Sometime we remember, often we forget.
Sometimes they disturb our sleep,
Often we take a dive into them very deep.
Dreams our dreams
Why they come?
What they tell?
It is still a mystery,
People do study dream’s chemistry.
Synonym of success, and victory.
Dreams our dreams.
Sometimes dreams try to show our upcoming days,
They warn us through their own ways.
It happens with most of us,
Generally our feet got stuck when we had to run in dream,
Our voice don’t come out when we try to scream, in our dream.
Dreams our dreams.
People do comment,
Your dream will remain dream.
People do suggest,
Always have big dream.
Dreams are always around us as comment,
As our own reflection,
As insight,
Sometime as motivation.
Dreams our dreams.
It is good to have dreams,
It acts as catalyst in or life.
Dreams are there to materialize into truth,
Dream are there to mobilize the youth.
One should not live in dreams,
One should try to live their dreams.
Sometimes we have dream of team,
I too have a dream
World having no violence, hatred, grief, hunger,
I call you to be partner
In my dream
I am sure, together we can fulfill this dream.
Dreams our dreams.
(Ravi Pratap Singh)
Bowynn Gods: Naraea
Naerea (Nay-ree-ah) Goddess of sleep, dreams and prophetic dreams. She is the daughter of Tora and Daeth and is one of the very few gods of the Akua who have multi arms. She is a spider goddess and spends most of the time spends her days and nights in the great night sky weaving the great sky web in the heavens. It is then web she weaves that filters out bad dreams from coming to earth and plaguing people's minds as they sleep.
On the web Naerea allows moisture to collect, washing away any nightmares that may collect or turning them to good dreams. This moisture falls like droplets to earth, gracing people with sleep and good dreams. Remnants of this can be found as morning dew. Sadly, sometimes a bad dream will get past the web and still bring nightmares.
Despite her sometimes spider appearance, Naraea is not a foreboding looking goddess. Nor is she a goddess of anything dark nor malicious. Her gifts of good dreams and sleep should be seen as blessings; Graced on mortals after a hard day's work. Naraea is not a goddess to be feared but respected. Being an endless working divinity, she never took a consort, seeing her work more important. As a weaver, Naraea is sometimes looked at as a goddess of weaving, working alongside of Briathenaea. But primarily she is a nighttime goddess.
Naraea is a goddess, seen as a motherly figure in here godly form, with long silver hair. Her arms are busy working in the night sky above with shuttles and combs in hand. In her totem form, she appears as either a great crystalline spider in the heavens or as a small spider like what we see on earth. Whatever the form, it is a form of beauty. In godly form, she is seen wearing a white or black dress that sparkles like the stars. Sacred items and gifts of Naraea are dream catchers, dream pots, shuttles, balls of yarn, morning dew and votive images of spiders.
I don't believe that the Little Mermaid should be black, or asian, or Mexican.
She shouldn't even be white.
Or human.
Instead I vote Alice to be the new Little Mermaid.
Who is Alice you might ask? Alice is my dog
Can she sing? No
Can she act? No
Can she even obey simple commands? Not without heavy bribery.
Even with not being able to do any of that, I still believe she would make the best Little Mermaid there ever was.
She wanted the part so bad that she even went as a mermaid this year for Halloween.
Vote Alice for Little Mermaid 2023 to help her achieve her dreams.
The Myth of Dreamless Sleep
Consciousness never "switches off" because it isn't generated by the brain. Its sensory inputs can be switched off - during sleep or general anesthesia, for instance - but your consciousness is still there. For example, a small but consistent number of patients report out-of-body experiences (OOBEs) or near-death experiences (NDEs) while under general anesthesia. As someone with REM Sleep Behavior Disorder (RBD) I can attest to this, since I act out dreams that occur during the non-REM phases of sleep.
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I’m not even the main character in my dreams. I’m the side character rooting for her best friend as the love of her life gets married to another woman. I’m a the side character who helps the prince pick the right girl and falls in love with the comedic relief. I’m the extra who ditches it all to go explore the flower fields instead of staying for the drama.
Beautiful sky
