Between dreams and awake

I dreamt something last night that was wonderful and at some point felt my body at the verge of waking. However, I did not wake entirely and was completely unable to move my body and had not 'let in' the lights, sounds, shapes of the world. (I cannot even confirm if this pseudo awake state was even real or part of a dream)

In any case, whatever it was that I had felt in dream, moved by it, I felt tears. These tears that warm the body and the mind, because they are so unreal, seem grander than they may even be. They equal the greatest yearning, the grandest wave, the surfeit heart of something completely undefined.

I'm crying for what reason? Such emotion for something that was literally a minute or less of REM sleep?

I'd like to imagine our souls and minds having these little vials of pure emotion. They are slowly consumed like a secret elixir. But every so often, i'd like to imagine the vial bursting and emotion just bursting from your every pore, so much so that you even cry---and the tears are of another substance. , maybe even part of that elixir that had burst...

Screaming, when overtaken by a Cassavetes calm, I meditated to the Benzene ring

Over the course of many a night...all blurred into one long self-imposed bout of insomnia, I decided the solution was to see Mogwai live and while the auditorium speakers blew out my eardrums, scream to the top of my lungs. That way, all rotten blackness could be purged. Lately, the distance away from my family, the band trying to resuscitate the energy that was stolen by obligatory military service, break ups, and ultimately, my incapacity to speak 100% Korean, in a way that i could just be myself left me feeling abandoned by my own poor judgment.

ah, slap in the head. a whisper from the internet wavelengths, and bam:

John Cassavetes said in his interview on life and love, "What I think everybody needs is a way to say, 'Where and how can I be in love so that I can live? So that I can live with some degree of peace.'"

Satori in the night!

The last concert I did, who did I play for?

I don't even remember. All I remember was the beautiful yellow lights flickering from my Korg Radius module, a UFO to take me places.

Who did I love then? There were no fine precarious balances at all.

oh benzene ring, how i love thee.

Only for a few seconds each day

but ever-present...

world,

do you know how madly in love with you i am?

yes, you!

Ode to the Cauliflower

Cauliflower

you are so white

and so uneaten

doomed to crudites

and you are semi crunchy

not like an apple or carrot

but not soft like broccoli or peas

If I squint

Oh cauliflower

You become one big white dot

so little contrast have you

with that white mass of veggie pimples

yaddayadda weather yadda

I love it, when, for a moment, you get to time travel: today, the combination of the sun and the dry wind in the afternoon, the snapping flags, and the glittering cars made me remember what it felt like to be going on errands with your mom but not knowing where and why (just sitting in the backseat of the car). Look out the window, and there it is...the Capitol Expressway Auto Mall, with rows and rows of sparkling cars under the California sun; the flag poles pierce the sky. The sky is blue, the flags undulate with the wind (like the fish of the sky!) and there is so much space everywhere.

Similar blue/space/bright and windy days:

Trip from Kansai International Airport in Osaka via Nankai Rapid Service to Namba...over the bridges and if the timing is right, you see sparkling rivers.

On tops of buildings overlooking cities or the high points of San Francisco, on sunny days.

yadda yadda.

Hypnotized

I want to write, but am hypnotized by rally between the keyboard and the pencil. I really need to write music, but again, I am induced into a hypnotic state by the pendulum swing back and forth from electronic programs to white keys on a piano. Everything is buzz buzz. Hypnotized by the hot of the interior, cold of the exterior...purgatory mental and physical states.