When I'm With You, It Doesn't matter what we do.

You don't have to start at the beginning of this book.  I know its the customary thing to do, but a little bird told me that you can start wherever you want.   I think I'm going to start at page 23.  Page 23 is a great place to start if you just woke up and are not really focused yet.  If you still remember the dream you had last night, page 23 is recommended   But I'm sure wherever you start, we are going to meet somewhere along the way, like we always do, like all humans always have and always will.  Because we are not really separate.  But we won't get to that until page 42.

I guess I'm really not that much into the idea that there are beginnings, middles and ends of things, even books.  Think of what you are reading more as a circle, perhaps.  Or don't think of it at all.  I think I'm more into exploring things rather than thinking.  Or at least that is my aspiration.  

If you do keep reading, page 2 can be a little disconcerting.  I think in some ways it is the end of this little adventure, the answer to all our little questions, perhaps even before the adventure started.  Which is a natural progression of things, I suppose.  We are born, we live, and we die.  And its not a happy ending, actually kind of macabre unless there is a whole lot of context.  And I think that is where the fun begins: adding context.  Or maybe letting everything else fall away.  Or both.

So without further adieu, 

Elevator Going Down

 So I was in an elevator last night at 1:30 am, holding onto my new grounding wire connected to the cold water pipe of my bathroom, going down into the earth, literally and figuratively.  And in this dream, I was waiting in line to get in the elevator, I think, but that wasn't the important part.  And there were kids milling about.  And I think even one of them pushed the button to go down.  And there was a female also associated with the elevator.  And she was running the show.  Kind of.  

So the elevator started slowly down, and then it sped up, disconcertedly fast--making me wonder what button the kids pressed.  Or mushrooms they may have eaten before the dream.  I remember an abrupt stop after what seemed like 99 floors going down.  And the doors opened up to a dark area.  And the kids all dispersed.  And I think it was just me talking to the woman.  And the woman was stating rather plainly that we should not have come here.  And part of me wanted to go back.  This place was uncomfortable.  Physically uncomfortable.  But part of me felt that this was the place I should be.  It was very quiet and still.  And part of me belonged here.  This was what I had been searching for but not yet recognized.  There was a conflict in me.  And the woman pointed out a path in the distance and motioned for me to go to the "natural disbursement area."  To follow that path.  And there was nobody around.  And it was dark and very dimly lit.  And I can sort of remember another dream about this as well.

So I know I'm looking for too much meaning here and liable to get my butt spanked for doing so, but the kids inside of me are always pressing buttons without really thinking about anything.  But I want to go to that underground place in the stillness.  This is the end of the road for me.  Literally.