750 words - day 4

 Midnight came, and 40 minutes of it passed before I gave up the fight in my mind about what to write about here tonight. Since I had no new ideas rising I was debating waiting till morning to see if I had any dreams occur that I could describe. Some of my most enjoyable writing in the past is when I have dreams that I can remember after waking that I felt like documenting. One of the very first pieces of creative writing I did when I was a sophomore in high school was one of these "endeavors"... to not do more than just write down descriptions of what it was that I saw, felt, and experienced in my dreams one particular night. My creative writing teacher thought it showed signs of promise for me to have a future as a writer, and it was probably the tantamount event of anything I did in all the years I was in high school trying to garner academic acclaim. I remember that the next time I tried to write something as prosaic as that first "story", it fell flat. Trying to write something has never worked for me. I have to take a leap from my normal mind into the realm of the spirit of creativity where a flow takes over my thoughts and I am lifted by waves that just let my fingers know what the next words to type are. In recent years, some of my most profound experiences in writing creatively are when I set a timer and give myself a word count goal. For instance, to write 400 words in 10 minutes. There is something that this pressure to perform does that disengages my lower mind from having to grovel for thoughts. When I must type quickly, before I have time to think about what it is I really want to say the power of the muse electrifies the connection between my mind and my fingers and something out of the ordinary flows from me. But I'm not in that frame of mind right now. I'm not trying to write something creatively unknown right now. I'm just thinking , and recalling, and wondering... what I will try to say next.

Even scanning my memory of the past week or two, looking for memories of having memorable dreams that I could give descriptions of right now, my mind is blank. I remember that I wake up in the mornings not remembering what I dreamed. I can have mornings where it is obvious to me that I was dreaming before I awoke. I remember having feelings of my inner energy body moving about inside my frame and skin, a knowing that I was somewhere else, with others, doing things that my mind feels the need to keep secret from me. Secrets from my waking self. How strange of a thing is that to think about. As if someone different than me is living inside of me and has an entirely different agenda in it's life of the goals and desires it experiences. It can't truly be a different person than me. I am the me that is inside of me having these experiences, but why the secrecy? Is it doing things that I'd be embarrassed to know about? Or are they doing developmental work of a nature, that if I knew about it, I would sabotage their progress thru the disconnected actions I make in my conscious living time? This is a intriguing train of thought that I've never considered before, so I think I will explore it a bit.

I do remember that a few days ago I woke up and had this feeling that I had been dreaming. But there were no images in my mind to pull from. What I did remember was the feeling of what the body inside of me felt like it was doing. So I can go with that a little bit. I remember that my dream body felt BIG, like it was either a large animal, or more so, that there was a large animal, but that my dream-me was attached to it, as if I were riding it. So you might think, "Oh, he was riding a horse!", but I'll deny that direction of thought and say, no, what it felt like to me was that I was riding a dinosaur. But I wasn't sitting on it's back, no, it had a saddle-like-attachment that it wore across it's chest and there as a compartment that I could fit into. And I was somehow able to control where I wanted the dinosaur to move towards. But I recall nothing about the scenery or landscape of this territory, and in fact, what I remember feeling was that I was not a separate entity from this dinosaur, I WAS THE DINOSAUR, and my consciousness rode in this protuberance that emanated from it's chest. Again, I saw none of this. I felt the shapes of this dream-energy being created inside of my own sleeping body. I'll stop here for now seeing I've hit my 750 word goal for the day.