Night Turns

With a free bit of nonsense time, I offer this twisted concept for your own consideration. Breaking from the norm to keep these uniquely crafted thoughts fresh, I present to you a random access bedtime pondering. Especially written for those who drift with one eye closed…

Sleep has never arrived easily for me, at this point I am accepting it probably never will. There always seems to be a valid reason to stay awake. Why rest when you can create, impact, observe, reflect, or simply stare straight ahead motionless with a subconscious focus. Somewhere between slumber and reality, this unique semiconscious state has now become comfortable. Simply my chosen method to find peace after the shadows have fallen but still have something more to say. It would be great to be like everyone else nightly, but it isn’t meant to be. So here I exist.

When I settle down, the thoughts of the day remain rapidly swirling. Over many years, I have learned to allow them to do so in a way that makes it easier for me to dismiss the impact of them. During the light, they all hold a prioritized place in line and exist with appropriate weight respectively just below my ball cap. But at night, they become memory contents in a paint can. When I’m ready to do so, I place the round container into the machine which violently shakes it so well each thought then loses its’ identity.  Eventually forming only one-single liquid memory experience. Rinse and repeat nightly.

Lately, during this Corona mess, my most frequent cloudy-filled dream experience is one of constant repetition and imagery. The meaning to it, I haven’t a clue. Perhaps one day it shall all make sense, but for now, it offers me calm with a well-deserved side of escape. So I guess if my own nightly visual mind canvas is putting out, I am putting in.

I often wonder if there is a hidden secret on how to get to that same dream with predictable frequency.  Without exactly saying one can actually plan for it, but with confidence are able to go there at will. I have my own unique visual scene, as it appears to be etched forever within.

Each of us has a unique dream as you have created yours for years and years. Maybe you visit it so very infrequently it lacks immediate clarity or resonates with you at all. One day it might, and one day you may be thankful you are able to go back there with regularity. Perhaps someone is already there waiting for you. It could prove to be your best source of escapism after facing long adversity. Maybe it is an untold endowment each of has been given with our initial life-breath.

Mine resides on the jagged edge of a coastline. Here, anything is next to becoming possible, and nothing is ever close to becoming achievable. My place alone, where the waves of hope  crash into the rocks of despair  with tremendous echoing force. Both exercise their influence upon one another, yet neither relent. This back and forth tug of perseverance-to-abandon, has already played itself out for forever and a day, and will infinitely continue to do so. This is the place my lighthouse calls home.

There are occasions when barely any image of it is even visible. Often only a faint mist of soft blue light permeates the darkened outline to the tall round stone structure. I always know the full view of what is there regardless. Other times, the imagery is in its full prominence with tremendous clarity. It’s funny, I can almost tell you which version I am going to visit on which evening. It depends solely on the current circumstances in my awake time earlier that day.

Bright ideas and mighty accomplishments are forgotten there in the big scheme of things as well. Together, small victories and setbacks erratically lap at the well-placed rocks around it. Time, space, and emotions are all the same too. They come and go without any real definition or consideration to one another. I created for it to be this way, perfectly vague and without purpose. Yet it is always readily available for me to visit when I so choose. It is the place where I go to cope, hope, and heal.

Recently I found myself checking in again after another long day of sheltering in place. Curiously, I was not alone. For the first time ever,  there was a strange sensation within me.  A second set is close to realizing my creation. They are the eyes of someone I recognize, but from whom I do not really know deeply. Certainly not well enough to have ever shared my secret dreamscape with. She is merely a familiar stranger.

We both knew way back when from our initial encounter, it can never be the same. But now, maybe this is our way of trying to get there again in some other form. Is it possible for two people to float through dreamland and connect once again in a mutually sought after plane? I am now thinking it might be, as her faint image is repeating.

This woman is getting close, very close to meeting me there I think. Surprisingly I am ok should it eventually happen. If only for a moment, maybe we will realize something unique between us not yet presented in the conscious world. I know this sounds kind of out there, but the what-if  absolutely fascinates me. Two people meeting on the same night, in the same dream, at the same place, at the same time. How cool. Surprisingly, I seem to be on the verge of making it happen somehow.

Can two people truly connect in such a unique way without the aid of mind-altering substances? (I don’t take drugs, never fear).  If she and I do meet at my  coastline though, are there words to be spoken or better left unsaid. Is there an understanding between the two of us.  Are we to simply experience that which surrounds us there and not be interrupted by any vocal sounds. I’m curious to know what the protocol is if she appears yet again.

Maybe she comes close, but never fully joins me. Only to permanently drift away to some other special place she claims as her own. Maybe she was never even there at all?  Have I imagined this, due to going stir crazy all day. Why her in particular, if I haven’t though? Together at my coastline, we may experience something very few are ever able to make happen. Two like-minded souls connecting in the same dream, as accounted for.

I guess when I consider this simple exchange, I am still partly already convinced she is  very close to meeting me, ever closer than before. I just know it.

Maybe I’m just going slightly mad when the sun goes down right now. Perhaps I’ve just been cooped up for too long. Maybe this Morrison guy is troubling with reality due to a lack of social interaction.

But then again, if it only takes place in my mind does it ever really  happen anyway? Hmmm.

Sleep a while, you must be tired…



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4 replies
  1. Aric H. Morrison
    Aric H. Morrison says:

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  2. Wanda Sorrell
    Wanda Sorrell says:

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  3. Aric H. Morrison
    Aric H. Morrison says:

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