Just because you fantasize about something doesn’t mean you actually want it. People don’t know what they want!

Please correct me if I’m wrong, I want to be wrong.

I have a morbid fear of trainers. They always want to help you meet your “goals.”

But I don’t have goals!

Detail

How is there never a beginning to a dream?

A dream does not begin.

It ends when you wake—but does not begin

When you fall asleep.

Time comes out of time

Like ribbon from cassettes,

Shimmering, sticky,

More than seems possible,

More and more tape

Like time from a dream.

A golden-white silken thread

Of incandescent pain

As thin as nothing,

That immeasurable,

Is pouring like a strand of honey

Into the ocean, out of the

Fog in the mind.

It does not begin.

It goes as high as God.

Awake & Alone

Am I in the wrong history?

I thought in a dream where I watched an instant replay with a contrary outcome to the one I’d just witnessed.

But the replay in the dream was as real as the dream.

When I’m only alone asleep, I try to reach aloneness through sleep.

Being alone is first position.

The other day, alone in a room with my friend Mike, he said

What are you doing this weekend?

And after a pause I said

Who, me?

The weird part was, he didn’t even think it was weird.

It is so much easier to sit and think in a bar alone than at home.

In a bar where I am not alone

I can remember every thought I’ve ever thought

And they come back to me, as thoughts, as real as the dream.

But now I am awake.

Now that I am finally alone.

The Idea of a Meadow

I’ve become obsessed with the idea of a meadow, a meadow I am not in.

Yellow flowers are in the meadow. They must be; they are part of my idea of a meadow.

There is the yellow on green below, the flowers in the grass, the white on blue above.

My viewpoint is in the middle, though I’m not in the meadow.

It forms a white line extending out to the horizon, a line that is real in the real of the meadow—

When the meadow is real, so is the line.

You can think of the meadow as kind.

But the meadow is indifferent to human life—even to mine, even my meadow.

My meadow with day moon and trickling stream, rabbit and magpie.

White wisp of cloud, white snow on the mountain, the meadow a valley—

There is cloud wisp and flowers, but they are not for me, when the meadow is real.

I’m not in the meadow. The meadow is not mine.

Don’t Think

One way to fall asleep is paradoxical intention: trying not to fall asleep.

So the thinking goes, this reduces your performance anxiety.