The property of dreams

 Weather is a sacred thing, in fact I dream about the weather.  Not what it is going to be, not what I wish it to be, not what I want it to be or falsely predict it.  I find the notion absurd.

My rejection of the weather is far more common a feeling.  The weather cannot reject me nor can it be rejected.  That is a secret behind weather, much like dreams, is unpredictable. . . especially if it is ironic or neurotically charged.  When you think about something, when did it occur to you that logic intensified your meaning behind it - if you gave it instruction yourself.

I write much the same way my imagination applies to it.

This exercise is one I continually renew.  My very real ability to perform a dream life into my writing.  I have no idea where it comes from, I simply write based on how I feel given the weather of my minds eye forecasting it.  Words are a liberating thing that way. 

So I prefer to use it as a powerful metaphor in movement, my writing habits create movement, something my mind can attach itself to but has no regrets nor escape the guilt I have when doing it.  My words are not used to escape judgment or understanding of clarity - they simply require expectations of a pragmatic nature.

I have read some of the most boring words ever written without really considering them, and this is why I write the way I do.  Because I appear to make life far more interesting than it actually is.

There is such a thing as causation.

There is such a thing as phobia.

I stand on this moral high ground pretending to exist.

And yet by the end of this narrative it all makes perfect sense, just by the way it sounds. 

That is the property of dreams.  They are a product of your unconscious self.  Much like words. 

I train myself to escape guilt and judgment, it is the only place I can go without being made to vomit.  It is how I maneuver through time and space combatting the evil cradles of justice.  And by that I mean - romance - is the only way to find your way back.  Back to the place your journey began, before you failed to realize this is all just a dream.

I love that word.

Romance.

I love it.

And yet I came here to prove it by saying nothing at all. 

I might be onto something.

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Marco Almeida

So yeah - the property of dreams. . . romance. A wonderful concept to pursue.

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