As I lay in bed, sick and vaguely irritated, I’ve been thinking about my dreams. Dreams are very similar to water, whether it’s the oceanic depth of multilayered dreams, or the rushing frigid jaws of rapidly shifting night terrors, or the shallow ponds of dreams that tiptoe the edges REM sleep. Once you’re in you’re submerged - floating in oblivion, waves crashing and tides leading you from one scenario to another. Your head goes under and reemerges thirty feet east of where you began. Again you go under, and again, and again. It makes sense then, that dreams fall under the domain of the 12th house, ruled by Pisces (the deepest water sign) and its modern ruling planet, Neptune.
I was told that being in DC would be like a dream, but even with the warning and my years of vividly incoherent dreaming I hadn’t internalized just how destabilizing and tempestuous it would be. Despite all that, I would choose it again and again because I can’t imagine a world without dreams - a world where I don’t have the chance to make my dreams come true. So, good or bad, they’re all sweet to me and I’m using it as a learning curve - where should I kick and where should I lean back and float?
LITTLE DEATHS
The icky seasonal transition that gets everyone (me) sick
Wasting words and energy on ongoing issues
lending out cute pens and never getting them back
Dreaming
LITTLE DELIGHTS
Art All Night & bruised heels
Making future plans
Cough drops that look like (are) lollipops
Dreaming
FROM THE HOT LITERATI UNIVERSE
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