I woke up in the middle of the night with fire burning in my fingertips. It was a sweet burn that ceased only when I sat down to write out the ramblings intertwined in my dreams.
They unfolded like berries reveal themselves under leaves, short and uncomprehendable yet comprehensively dense, bittersweet pieces of observations I never knew I posessed.
The dream I woke up from was remarkable, undefineable and lucid, like a good nightmare told by a soft and crisp voice gently whispering stories from the dawn of the ages, about the kind of fear that absorb you and set you free.
I sat in my office typing under a sharp lightbulb while smoking a cigarette, and I felt like a madman rambling down crazy thoughts, but it helped to cool my fingers, and when finished, the storm in my head ceased.
The incident I describe to you was strange in itself but also strangely related to an unusal day I had the other day on my way home, I know this correlation to be true because the sensations I felt in my chest were the same.
To explain the unusual day shortly, I met a man with stories that altered my state of mind. The following day I woke up with new thoughts in my head, as if I just crossed the river after a long walk upstream.
And here are the abstractions, the allegories that may seem easy, like substitutions, but they are hard to come by and will have to be sufficient because I want only echoes of my story left behind in your mind after reading.
The result of my nightly escapade later became a booklet called Ramblings and now I need some daring readers to take them on, the ramblings, to fight them like a dragon, to understand them in a way I can not.
Take them merely as a subjective report of what happened, as a dream intertwined in reality, far fetched from normality, a piece of creative writing in the sense of a Quest, to find whatever is hidden in the layers of subconscious obscurity.
Behold.
Be brave.
Friend! Contact me if you dare test-read Ramblings
PS. The picture (top) is stolen from an animated excerpt of Allen Ginsbergs poem Howl, which you can find on Youtube here, a poem that without doubt inspired my style of writing in Ramblings, which was also independently pointed out by my First Reader (a man of no small spiritual and literary advancement), and finally, Howl is also a poem by a poet whom you should not compare me to if you want to be fair to me, which you should. Always.
Below is an attempt. Of. Something….
