Some friends and I were at the park, throwing frisbees around when the universe took a deep breath and sighed. Afterwards nothing was the same.
***
That was a dream I had, once. I don't remember it any longer, but the fact that I at the time found it interesting enough to write down is quite cool. I wish I could remember it; if just a smidgeon of a fleeting memory of a feeling.
Some dreams are vivid in my mind as I wake up, only to fade and be gone by the time I get to the bathroom. Some dreams stay with me, clear and distinct, for days. Some even for years, but of course as time passes the details will be forgotten and only the outline remains; what I thought and sensed was important will run like a little video now and then, projected onto the back of my skull. It may not be important at all, and maybe what my mind was trying to tell me is lost in the details that dropped off. I'll never know.
I noded a dream once - one of the most important dreams I ever had - but I seem to have deleted it again. I don't even remember deleting it, which is rather odd. The dream itself was so significant that the decision to delete it ought to have been equally significant; some kind of realisation that I had come to terms with the experience with which the dream dealt. But I don't actually remember. When I looked for it in my nodeshare I even started to doubt that I ever posted it. If it hadn't been for some remarks from a couple of noders at the time I could probably have convinced myself that I never noded it at all (it was during the short period of time, I assume, when nodeheaven wasn't working properly).
I have been... suffering, I guess, from writer's block for a long time now. It started out with me getting severe iritis and not being able to read for months, feeling pretty shitty to begin with, and slowly progressing to a state of mind where I am unable to piece together all the ideas floating around in my head. My brain is always a mess of odds and ends that need tying up and sorting out, and usually, before, in the old days, back when, that mostly meant that a story swam into focus as I rearranged and combed the strands of thought and association. Not so now.
Often, these days (nights) I dream that I can't see. That's probably significant.
I have decided to write and post rambling daylogs with non sequitur pipelinks, just to force myself to put fingers to keys and words to the screen. Maybe, just maybe, something'll give.
Don't get me wrong: I'm still in a good place. I just wish that I could write again.