Dream

Posted on March 8, 2008 in Dreams

By chance after an especially hard “support group” meeting, I came home and picked up the blue loose-leaf binder that contains the poetry that I wrote while I was manic and during the first months of my stability. It wasn’t as bad as I had dreamed it, though I can’t see how I could create the like now.

Lately, both as I wake and as I sleep, I remember a dream of driving south on the Coast Highway, looking to my right and seeing a large, rocky island of cormorants, drenched by the ocean. I want to get to that island and I do my best to will myself there, but every time I start to glide there, I am brought down, sometimes at the base of [[TARDIS|a blue police box]]. I take this as an emblem of my thwartedness to write fine things anymore. The island is beyond my abilities.