Saturday, February 26, 2005

Last night, I dreamed of a blue apple.

I held it up before me, and it was all I could see; I had some sense of where I was -- it was raining -- but everything was in swirls and blurs, and I was unable to discern exactly; it remained in perfect focus. Under my grasp, it felt firm and hard; the skin, flawlessly smooth but uneven in colour, streaks, veins and knots, like the grain of wood. It had a unnatural, exaggerated shape, with high, full arches like a Valentine heart or a woman's pelvic bone.

It was a caricature of nature, almost grotesquely beautiful -- Blue Delicious. I didn't taste it, didn't dare bite into it in a crude physical violation, mashing its pale flesh with my tongue, contaminating its tartly sweet juices with my saliva, catching slivers of cobalt skin between my teeth ... only looking, and breathing in the air around it.

posted at 8:46:29 pm

February 28, 2005   01:26 AM PST
I have no explanation for such a dream -- I had not been recently reading Lewis Carroll or watching Tim Burton or taking any mind-altering drugs -- except perhaps I was hungry.
February 27, 2005   10:46 PM PST
I believe dreams can have meaning. If a person doesn't believe in a higher power that might have something to say, then they should at least believe in the ability for your subconscious to give you a message.

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Glo'ri'a'na, noun:
1. An alternative form of "Gloria."
2. As "Americana" defines itself as artefacts of American culture, "Gloriana" consists of the artefacts of my culture.


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