is the place where I get most ideas. Last but not least, a clever trick to hang my curtains. Earlier, inspiration for my posts. The dimension of dreams has no numbers to it, no borders. My senses come together to generate feeling, and it is the feeling that I am left with shortly before waking up. Then, I put my rational mind to it, try to chase it around with words and sentences to lock it into a fixed shape, so that the feeling can never escape me, nor time.
It’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it? Claiming that my written words will stay forever the way they are. What it really is, I am lead to think, is that words are just a way for me to encode certain memories, or feelings.
And there are so many memories that I haven’t put down, black on white. Like that time I had nowhere to be and chose to go on an adventure. Or that time I realized I wasn’t part of something I didn’t know I wanted to be part of. And what about when I pushed myself, and shortly after let myself go completely.
There’s some poetry to it – poetry is hidden everywhere. I find most things without a meaning exciting and puzzling at the same time.
heimdimension 