Imagine feeling fully awake but unable to open your eyes, and not even really wanting to open your eyes. I may have opened my eyes, actually, in the dream. I can’t remember. If I did, all I would have seen was a black mist. A malignant spirit enters the room and gets right in your face. It is a spirit of anger, of hurt, rage, and violence. It tries repeatedly to enter you. You can feel the surging energy striking you.
Well, I have learned to mock these things. I have told them “do your best to kill me”, and “fuck you”, and I have even learned to laugh at them. They don’t like that at all. I had a very odd conversation with one of them. I actually calmed it down a bit.
For my part I have always liked the metaphor of standing guard, or holding my place in the line. I can’t know what my destiny is. I can’t know what will happen to me. But I can say that I will do my part until the end.
These are interesting times. All this hate in the air is exhausting, and I wonder if even the originators of it will tire of it at some point. The seeming actual appearance of genuine racism was a shot in the arm for them, but not all of them can really be as stupid as they seem. It has to be a fringe which needs continual reinforcement.
For me, I think these dreams are good. These feel like actual spirit entities, but they could as well be manifestations of some complex, or some latent psychosis I have cast from my psyche which “wants” back in. Whatever they are, they are outside now–they may have been a part of my everyday life for a long time–and cannot get in. They are the spirit of fear, and I do not fear them very much, and soon will not fear them at all.