Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Dream #3
Tosssing and turning but on the brink. Begin to release. Blue haze. Small fish and aquatic life in my close range of vision, but blurry. Sounds of something metal touching the back of my head and voices and laughter above. I am scared but am comforted by the small darting animals, too close to focus upon. Then I am in horror to realize that someone was repeatedly dropping a fishing line into the transformed fishbowl of my open skull.
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1 comment:
sounds like tripping artwork off of an album cover.
"We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl
year after"
my fi-cent interpretation: Not having eyes in the back of your head, you are not in complete control of the situation, suddenly aware of these unwanted guests fishing around for your thoughts and memories, stuff you've had on the back burner but don't want to look at and certainly not ready to give up. Swim, Retot, SWIM.
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