Karl (louderback) wrote,

A dream of flying, a conversation, and little else

Today's Lyric:
From the Frozen Plains
The harsh biting winternight
Embrace everything in this silent land.
A lonely man is wandering through the snow
With a wooden staff in his hand.

Dressed in old torn grey rags
He tries to keep himself warm.
The icy white long beard
Dances in the hard winterstorm.

His hands which once wielded the steel
Can now barely raise his horn.
Patiently he's searching from house to house
For a meal and a roof over his head.

From the frozen plains he comes
On a journey without destination.
Once a hero- now forgotten
On the edge of death by chill and starvation.
From the frozen plains he comes.
And to the frozen plains he goes.

He gained his pride throughout the wars.
Of the knights he was the best.
He risked his life for his king and queen.
Of all the heroes he was the bravest.
From the frozen plains he comes.
And to the frozen plains he goes.
King of the Distant Forest

Recently Played Songs:
         I am strangely awake. I had a conversation last night (thank you again!) that stirred parts of my brain that have never been awake. What a peculiar sensation that is. More about that another time perhaps. My conversation led to unusual dreams. I dreamt I flew. That is pretty unusual for me. I report it each time it happens because is so rare.

         My dream: I was not me. I don't know how that was so, nor how I knew it, for I could not see myself. I flew at a leisurely pace, about as fast as a man might run, above a dirt trail between tall trees. The trail continued for miles and I could see hints of it far ahead of me where lay mountains. I flew for hours and the trees gradually gave way to pines and firs and eventually nothing but rising stony ground. I continued to follow the path, now rudely paved with blocks of enormous white stone. The trail continued upwards, curving around one hill and another, taking paths of least resistance, but mounting always higher. As it crossed the tree line it gave way to snow-covered steep sided canyons and ran along their bottoms, sometimes zigzagging upward in a stair that topped the canyon and continued into the next.

         I seemed to know where I was going, but felt no urgency about getting there. I might have followed a more direct route, but stayed above the path even when it doubled back upon itself. Gradually I became aware of a mist ahead as though I might be rising to the level of the clouds themselves. I continued and was soon flying without any reference points around me, surrounded by whiteness. I woke then.

         Damned if I know what that was all about.

         I've been ill a lot of late and went to the doctor. He prescribed metronidazole which will, I hope, improve my digestion and get rid of my nausea. I genuinely loathe being nauseous for hours at a time day after day.

         Little of note has taken place in my life. I find myself very bored lately. No television does much for me, though I follow a number of shows. I've been listening to more music of late, but I can't really get excited about it. I have been listening to a number of books but find them as much an irritation as a reward. I am going to the movie theatre to see Hannibal Rising. By all accounts it does not live up to the book. Gee! What a surprise. Nevertheless I must go. I hate going to the movie theatre but I am too impatient to wait for the DVD which I know I will buy even if the movie sucks.

         No writing tonight.


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