I am writing this note into a separate notebook, onto a clean slate, and yet I feel connected with the old pages.
These lines needed an empty page nevertheless. Honesty needs it.
Thank you very much for everything. Instead of going to you, and cultivating my love towards you I would like to take a step back now, to myself, and to describe, investigate love here - connected and inseparable.
M, thank you for yesterday's conversation. As I mentioned, I am feeling dull lately. These conversations and connections bring something back, bring me back to a wider space - even if I am dull or tired meanwhile.
Conversations with anyone really, who loves me, and with whom these wider spaces are honestly explored.
J, these notes are also for you. I try to liberate your name in me, so that no limbs of any octopi are attached to it in me, nothing sucks on it or keeps it in place. Yours is a free name. I am a free man, and a free soul. Anyway, this message is also for your eyes, and for your love.
Back to me, back to the dreams, back to reality.
First I dreamt about speaking German again, pleasantly. I was contacting people of higher education, educators really. There was a strong synchronicity, first talking with someone about this man and woman, and then suddenly meeting them in an elevator after the next turn. They resembled the two known from photographs lately, who did the major part in developing the Pfizer / BioNTech vaccine - but in the dream their focus, their essence was language, knowledge and enterprise expertise.
I chatted them up and asked them to come with me to a company event as experts, they came. I enjoyed the pleasant company of warm knowledge.
There were episodes at the lake as well, and around the lake. Around summer, around swimming, with fixing rails, and with merrily avoiding policemen. Maybe a covid19-era thing.
There was a driving scene. Learning to drive a hypermodern, expensive car. Turned out it might have not been of the person's, who offered me to drive. Maybe a Matthew McConaughey impression? Yesterday I bought a book of his. And Cyberpunk 2077, a computer game recently release of the near future - with lots of hypermodern cars.
Someone was on the back seat. A woman. Our relationship was a bit demanding, a bit reactive.
The second half of the dream was different. I remember cleaning at my mother's place. She was asleep, and I was doing a good job. The place, the surroundings were sunny and airy. I was fighting a bit with some kind of butterfly-leeches, strange little creatures that sucked blood from my hand. I cleaned them out, held one of them with a towel. I felt the sting in my hand it bit. Threw the towel out of the window. An elderly lady from the facing building shook her head, disapprovingly.
I went to the garden, picked up the towel and some random junk from the ground, and put it into the bin. My mother appeared in the window above, and loudly said hat I should not pick up other people's junk, shunning me and them, distancing me and also them. Loud disapproval of something that is right and fine, on grounds that are personal and in that sense also fine (or mostly irrelevant), but should be on another side of a border, and not mine.
(Interlude: Where is a border actually? A "social border" feels to be outside. A "border" feels to be inside. If it is inside, then what is bordered from what? I am talking about my reality. Where is a border put, to function properly? Around me, between us? Around my integrity.)
I go back to the house, corridor, O appears behind me. Comes to talk.
I love her very much. I just openly love her very much. She is bright. She has short hair. Shines. I try to talk to her, we sit in the clean and indirectly sunlit kitchen. My grandmother appears, firm and energetic, she is leaving to attend her own business in the background. I talk to O about released trauma, she talks to me cleverly about E (her friend, my ex-girlfriend, both of them vets), something technical, practical, wise. I'd like to talk about deeper stuff, more meaningful, about how we love. I would like to present to her the clarity, my newly found understanding about what has passed. So that she knows that I know. To make our relationship clear again.
To be able to meet again.
I acted so very tragically reactive and traumatized when we separated, I hurt (her and myself) so immensely that I want to show all the good as well. I was in deep pain at that time. (And down the rabbit hole, COEX's of deep pain again and again, to the beginning of all my time.)
So this was the dream. Liberation really, a little wider, a little deeper. Closed up times lately, living a bit more near the surface, I can feel it in my body as well.
So I think I need the quality, airy contact, sometimes at least. To get back to to the wide, free, self-sufficient centre that we better are.
I know it is a process, I got bored of it somehow (J you (unspoken) predicted it, or I misinterpreted you), less involved in the story-part, more just doing my part. I would say luckily, the story keeps happening, keeps me alive. When it shows up really - like now, in this dream - I feel more alive.
A garbled up story, uneven health walk hand in hand in my eyes.
The cycles seem to come in different intensities. The grooves come in different depths. I still appreciate good contact, currently aware of it or not. Standing on my own legs.
The whole thing, my focus, is still, or should be, more about love.
It is snowing outside
And it is snowing inside
And snowflakes feather over every border
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