If I’d said everything I thought

11 months ago · 9 notes

When I should be giving to others

11 months ago · 2 notes

nephilnine:

…this morning i dreamt i could spin realities out of nothingness…

the dream started with me being nowhere… the place where i was was not exactly dark so much as it was just empty… infinite. i was not falling but i was not resting on a surface. as i tried to figure out basically WTF, i realized i could feel something in my hand. as i drew my hand across the blackness i found i could collect little fibers between my fingers… like catching bits of spiderweb blown on the breeze. as soon as the fibers touched my fingers they became visible and softly luminous. i twisted the strands together in my hand and they clung together to form yarn. i realized i could keep pulling this yarn from the blackness, and i liked it because of the light and substance it provided in the void.

then i noticed i had a crochet hook in my pocket, and i set to work crocheting a shawl out of the yarn. i had some sense that i was doing more than simply making clothes as i crocheted… and when i put the shawl on, a complete reality sprung up around me… grass, tress, friends, conversations, buildings, everything… though it all seemed slightly translucent to me… and i could find the seam in the reality and return to the void. so i started making more shawls, playing with the stitches and design of the garment, and was defiantly learning how to control and encode the reality more and more with each weaving. some realities i kept knitting larger and larger until they were full blankets that i could wrap myself in…

and while all the spinning and weaving and different realities kept me busy for a while, slowly i realized that i was very discontent. all the realities i created, no matter how big and intricate, all seemed false. through each reality i could see the void that was just full of nothingness, and myself… and i felt sad… i mourned the loss of the realty i once knew… the daily life that just was… full of unknowns, trials, struggles, and many great joys as well. i didn’t want to know what stitches i had crocheted or how the stories would end. i didn’t want to be all alone in the blackness.

and at that point i woke up.

This is wonderful, makes me think of Sufi’s weaving wool, First Peoples weaving baskets and blankets..

11 months ago · 3 notes · Source