Adonis Diaries

Posts Tagged ‘Lucid Dream

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Posted on September 5, 2017

Toutes les espéces vivantes sur terre se transformeront pour accommoder la qualité de l’air qu’on a engendrer. Bientot, on pourrait survivre sur d’autres planétes qu’on croyait invivable.

Les mots “de chose” qui sous-entend l’eau, comme caractéristique essentiel , constituent la majeur partie de n’importe quel dictionnaire.

I was having a dream of activities and conversation and the movie froze, picture and sound. Kind my dream-mind wanted to freeze. Exactly as movies freeze on TV. I woke up and realized I was having my siesta/nap and the quota of sleep was over.

It is an experience that can be remembered. In this dream I was having a ride by a young man in the evening and we were driving on a road under repair and he was asking me a question and the dream froze. The car was like parked on a road side and the question in suspension. In vain, my lucid dream was trying to restart the conversation, but the movie was definitely frozen

There’s a little club of countries in the world that offer no national paid leave to new mothers. Care to guess who they are? The first 8 make up eight million in total population. They are Papua New Guinea, Suriname and the tiny island nations of Micronesia, Marshall Islands, Nauru, Niue, Palau and Tonga. Number nine is the United States of America, with 320 million people Onward, fellow humans.

Can We Let Capitalism Die and Move On? How many more calamities, financial crisis, occupations, pre-emptive wars, famine, climate change, indignities… can our existence sustain?

Le jour de l’armnistice, tous ceux prêt á etre fusillés, sont-ils épargnés? Pour ce jour de célébration? On célebre le jour de l’armistice, pas la fin de la guerre: les gens ne sont pas si idiots, quand même.

Les armistice successives en Syrie ont sont la preuve. Une journée sans violence d’armes est une victoire.

Le récitant du conte raconte ce que le hero eut aimé qu’on racontât.

Dans la société capitaliste, les gens de capital n’ont que des destins, et qui nuisent a tout le monde. Des destins d’illusion d’un progres qui doit être instantané, ou rien ne vaille.

Les actes, les emotions, les idées s’installent chez moi, y font briévement leurs nids, et puis me quittent successivement avec des délais. Je constate, mais ne peut affirmer que je les subit: Ils sont malins et ne s’imposent pas tous á la fois. Il serait illusoire de ma part d’assigner de lois á leurs apparitions ou disparitions

Tant qu’il reste une rue, un café, une maison, un cimetiére…que tu n’a pas exploré dans cette ville, tu ne doit pas dire que “tu ne l’a pas trouvé”

Le progres a des niveaux de myths idolatres. Les financial multinationals ont élevés l’illusion du “Progrés Idole” au plus haut degree. Ils savent tout instantanément, decident  instantanément, et transférent des milliars  instantanément.

Les hommes font l’histoire? Plutot, des histoires á n’en plus finir

Occupe toi de ta santé: le Bonheur tombe par hazard. Pas de grâce de la joie sans santé. C’est une autre histoire.

“Toutes les famille heureuses se ressemblent, Les familles malheureuses (sont différents), malheureuses á leur facon”

“Les enfants que je n’ai pas eus ne savent pas ce qu’ils me doivent” Cioran

If this is Death, I don’t think much of it. Neither life, for some balance to my rational pessimism.

Le plaisir, s’il sent agreable et sans soucis, est meilleur qu’un devoir sans grâce et sans concentration.

De ce que j’ai senti en ma vie, sentiments pauvres et sec, je crois que la vie est supportable. Poutant, my experimental mind exige une vie alternative: Une jeunesse fougeuse et bréve.

“If you say, I think the occupation of Palestine is fucked up on forty different levels, people are like, you’re the devil, we’re going to get your tenure taken away, we’re going to destroy you. You can say almost anything else. You could be like, ‘I eat humans,’ and they’ll be like bien, bien.” Junot Diaz

Any man-made system must necessarily be fraught with errors, faults and limitations on its intended usage.

Any man-made system (product, service, administrative, management, political, control…) is doomed to fail when designed to cater for complex tasks and objectives. It will end up tying up many teams targeted for training, maintenance, redesigning…

Lost in recurring sad night dreams: Wandering around this flat university town..

It is good to have a context to my horrible recurring night dreams, particularly those re-run dreams that evolve with slight alterations, due to my attempts for Lucid Dream editing.

I spent about 8 years in a flat university town, on and off on two visits, for “continuing education” purposes.

The first trip lasted 2 years and was great in many aspects of novelty, adventure, surprises, experiences, aches, joy, frustration… and youth. The USA was open to foreign students and the universities were facilitated their living and enrollment. The Iranian students were the most engaged and active, demanding the fall of the Shah regime…

Six years later, my second trip extended beyond my expectation for another 6 years of total boredom, helplessness, poverty, closed horizon, and getting much older than my classmates and acquaintances…

In both visits I had a return ticket that I never used. My visa was good for 5 years, but I never could afford to return and visit my folks during the civil war…

During my second extended stay, the USA was closing down its welcoming doors and most research grants were funded by the military: Even permanent residents were turned down on account of top secret research.  Laws relevant to health and safety in the workplace were relaxed, ignored and numbers of inspectors cut down. A period covering Reagan and Bush Sr.

Actually, my decision to leave for another stint had no sense. Except this feeling of closed horizons in Lebanon: The civil war was on, but the year I left witnessed a long reprieve and my family could not comprehend my decision.

A month after I settled in the university town, the civil war broke up again, much violent and haphazard than previously. And my parents lived for 6 months in the basement.

As in the first rip, I didn’t apply or tried to connect and plan anything:  I had to be in the place and take it from there. I could offer the excuse that the postal services and phone connections were not functioning in Lebanon, but I am the type who abhor planning in advance for critical decisions, except the most futile and irrelevant decisions.

I wrote about my experiences in my auto-biography, and this post is about my recurring harassing dreams.

The harassing part of these scenarios is that the various versions insist on blending the worst depressing and melancholic of events in both trips.  My Lucid efforts to mix in a few refreshing stories are frequently overruled.

And the tackiest of all is that each version is shot as if I am back on a third, a fourth trip. And to do what?

Like I didn’t finish my dissertation and I’m trying to get rid of this burden once for all. It is not the kind of dissertations that if you read some more in the literature you can reach a closure. No, you have just a couple of short articles on the topic and the authors have admitted that they don’t know of a solution. And it is a mathematical problem for someone who is no mathematician, about optimizing stochastic demands for production. Don’t expect me to expound on these terms: I am in no mood for these craps.

I admit that I was not pleased with either my master’s thesis or my PhD dissertation and I feel that I didn’t get a closure academically.

Or like I am invited to give a lecture and I overstayed for a few nights, roaming these square blocks on the north side of the campus, and trying to discover anything new that replaced the older images. The post office is no longer for receiving hard copies and the friendly coffee shops were replaced by multinational franchises…

Or I’m biking at night going home and cannot recollect which apartment I’m living in: I moved so many times in all kinds of sleeping arrangements that I’m totally disoriented. And I’m thinking hard of any “friend” to visit in order to get my memory at ease…

Or I’m wandering in this flat town and realizing that I have no cash, no checks and no credit cards. If I had a credit card I cannot remember the password: It has been so long that I lately used any of these financial facilities.  And the only bank in town is not at a walking or even a biking distance. In the next version, I should open a branch of the bank on these stupid blocks.

There used to be “specialized” bars for singers and fans of Grateful Dead or Bob Marley… and I don’t see them in my dreams. Even the nude bar of Walter Mitty never appears in these dreams… And I know that my dream brain is pretty artistic and inventive, and I wish my dream brain would insert a few scenes of these bars and enjoy fully what I didn’t in real life.

One of the versions made me walk a few hills and noticed historical sites, in this totally flat town with no history at all. This flat university town gets a few colors at the start of the Fall season as students flocks from the southern States and the beginning of the football season. The stadium is packed with the university red and white colors and I had to submit to the boring and unimaginative US fiesta-types: All boozing and shouting and screaming and cursing and nothing to show for in tradition and culture.

A flat university town that empties at Thanksgiving and Christmas periods. The whole town is mine and nothing that matter: Nowhere to investigate, climb, get lost in a forest… Except a nasty wind whirling a few leaves in a desolate moonish landscape…

It was my mistake never to find out how this university was established. I conjecture that it might have been a military barrack for further expansion of the US territory down south, or maybe a concentration camp for native Indians…

The native Indians claim that tornadoes never hit this flat town, on account that it is bordered by small rivers? While Dell City, 20 miles north and bordering Oklahoma City, is frequently devastated by tornadoes.

Another recurring dream is being overwhelmed with baggage. I never travel with more than two suitcases: When I move to another apartment or town, I leave everything in place and give away almost everything, even if I have a single dollar… And yet, my dreams want me to be going back and forth gathering all kinds of belonging and getting pretty much nervous, and I have to wake up.

There is another university in the middle of nowhere. This center of education was meant to teach agricultural disciplines: It currently graduate students in all fields except agriculture…

My last week in this flat town was the most boring and melancholic in my life. The students had vacated the premises and I was wandering endlessly around the empty blocks, this desert of dried up soul, blocked spirit, not a penny in my pocket to open up any lousy opportunity in my diminished imagination… Taking stock of my stupid situation: Where from there?

No relatives or close friends to call on, regroup, celebrate, share…

And I had to go on and survive.

You may read “The Tunnel” chapter in my auto-biography category


adonis49

adonis49

adonis49

September 2021
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