FROM DARESH
Dream_Bubble_Matter_
antimatter_antibubble_antidream
Cast out of a rural mural and transported through a blue tinted portal, I conjured anew as a subtle air bubble full of multiple essences of whimsical trouble. Hasty fluid breaths in a liquefied canvas insisted to finish all of a sudden as the body materialized itself abruptly into substance. Wet eyes flutter as matter tips the scale, the head breaks the surface and gazes skyward to an atmosphere of fire frozen in waves of sails. The bolts of ice strike the same place more than twice on this ocean-like paradise. The flashes entice any kind of life with pulsing pillars of violent strife, slicing no matter which, with a strange laser kind of knife.
Awakened when wading for the last second, treading only for a moment, soon to be no longer buoyant. Tis’ the last chance to inhale a small gasp to grasp the collective past of a jester’s sorrows and laughs. Taken quick by the pressurized abyss, swiftly becoming an example of karmic influence, fate mistakes the bait as gravity accelerates the weight. A solid sinker falling faster than rhyme with no place right to hide and only lightless places left to find. As the battered lungs store recycled air, I think of the key needed to become released from the confines of a weightless chair. Unsheathing the lost puzzle piece, I breathe in the water and become part of the ocean’s energy underneath. As marine creatures scatter about, the descent was only an instant, like a meteorfalling from above the clouds. Long time ago choked and long time ago cloaked, a silent focus became soaked among the many bio-illuminant ghosts inhabiting between coasts to coasts.
Finally settling, sitting cross legged on the depths floor, a blinking persistent column explores even further downward to engrave the crown of my forehead’s door. Precise icicles assemble the recent alien molecules of added air just to find the new odd spine begging to be unified and aligned in pairs. The strife becomes a whole lot more nice as the fusing instrument constructs a bridge to make a rare kind of element from some random sediment. Residing in an acquired underwater threshold made of both an anti-bubble and a few different chemical molds, light emanates from the inside as neuron pathways embark in and out along with the wavering tides. Gliding from dream plane to dream plane, surfing the dimensional range, the practice gets practiced of popping in and out of existence for what only seems like less than seconds.
COMMENT
I'm afraid you'll need to explain the meaning, because I see none myself. That's usually not a good sign.
RESPONSE
Hello John and thank you for your feedback. This is merely a dream sequence. A bubble coming up out of the water, materializing into consciousness, and then drowning again into another dream. This is taken out of context from the other dream sequences which surround this writing. There isn't an intended absolute meaning, just meant to be a creative writing segment to formulate it's own art within the mind of the reader.
COMMENT
Typically, I don't write meaningless things. There is no art or creativity to meaninglessness. It literally reads as if you flipped pages in a dictionary and threw a dart to pick out which word would come next. Your "explanation" is not all that much better. Sorry, but you must create the art; the writing cannot "formulate its own art". That is an impossibility, as you amply demonstrated.
Let me know if ever you want to put words together to form a meaning. I can help you with that. Otherwise, keep throwing darts, I guess. Maybe you'll get lucky and write something someone actually understands.