sky watching

over the past four years, i've been shooting the moon, casting my eyes upwards, trying to connect with universal events that i can see with my naked eyes.

tonight, a galactic alignment is about to happen, something that hasn't happened in 26000 years.  my tiny insignificant point of view in this spinning cloud of suns won't allow me the ability to see it, photograph it, or experience the grand scale of it, but at least i know it's happening.

the world is not going to end, it is instead a beginning, a new 26000 year journey.  humans like me can't grasp such an event without first somehow connecting to the sky and stars, getting our feet and heads out of the sandbox.  the Mayans and almost all other ancient cultures were connected in a way that modern day people can never hope to be because we are all too distracted with our gadgets and petty little hangups.

sigh, it would almost be better if the world did end.  or if stupid people would stop reproducing. lol

on another note, John Boehner's so called "Plan B" was shot down by his own party.  if that isn't a sign of the end times, may it at least be the turning of the tide.

fevered dream

there is a belief that when you sleep, you are closest to death itself.  and when you are sick or close to dying, the veil that separates life from death becomes even more transparent.

who knows if any of that is real, wouldn't it be great if death is just the continuation of a dream of life?  then the only real goal in life should be to learn to control your dreams so that when dreaming becomes the reality you will have the confidence to be in control of your death that you didn't have in life.  Neato.

anyway, about the dream i had while i was sick.

Frank makes pretty regular appearances in my dreams, usually some young version of him full of life and vitality, running along gravel paths, snuffling in grass, carrying his leash in his mouth.  But while I was sick, when my temperature spiked to 103, I dreamed of Frank quite differently.

I dreamed of him in a waiting place.  It was like a waiting room, but one so expansive that walls were only ideas, as in "there should be a wall there, and yes, there it is", but they only existed for the person who imagined them to be there.  People, animals, thoughts could pass through my imagined walls, it was pretty crazy.  It finally dawned on me that putting up walls was pointless, so the waiting place expanded out to infinity, the way it should be.

I saw him waiting among other dogs.  I saw George and Bernie too, but curiously no Nuke or Niko.  They all seemed happy to see me, though Bernie seemed a bit distracted.  I noticed he had a scar around his neck.  When I was petting him, he pulled away if I got close to it.  George was every single one of his 13 years, wobbly on his hind legs and white where he used to be tan.  He still had that rope we made into a collar/leash around his neck. And Frank carried all signs of his 14 years, also wobbly on his legs, and stiff.  He still wore the kitty bandanna he got from Bath and Biscuits, his breath smelled of pineapple, and that bald spot on his side was growing soft, woolly Frank fur. All three were at rest, all of them smiled doggy smiles, but each of them were exactly as they were the day they died.  

And this was strange for me, because dreams of dead pets have always been sort of positive, like they're ok and healthy, and happy.  In this dream, they were still suffering from their various ailments and tragedies, still carrying scars and scar tissue from their lives.