LIGHT

HAIL holy light, ofspring of Heav'n first-born,
Or of th' Eternal Coeternal beam
May I express thee unblam'd? since God is light,
And never but in unapproachèd light
Dwelt from Eternitie, dwelt then in thee,
Bright effluence of bright essence increate.
Or hear'st thou rather pure Ethereal stream,
Whose Fountain who shall tell? before the Sun,
Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice
Of God, as with a Mantle didst invest
The rising world of waters dark and deep,
Won from the void and formless infinite.
Thee I re-visit now with bolder wing,
Escap't the Stygian Pool, though long detain'd
In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight
Through utter and through middle darkness borne
With other notes then to th' Orphean Lyre
I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night,
Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down
The dark descent, and up to reascend,
Though hard and rare: thee I revisit safe,
And feel thy sovran vital Lamp; but thou
Revisit'st not these eyes, that rowle in vain
To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn;
So thick a drop serene hath quencht thir Orbs,
Or dim suffusion veild. Yet not the more
Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt
Cleer Spring, or shadie Grove, or Sunnie Hill,
Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief
Thee Sion and the flowrie Brooks beneath
That wash thy hallowd feet, and warbling flow,
Nightly I visit: nor somtimes forget
Those other two equal'd with me in Fate,
So were I equal'd with them in renown.
Blind Thamyris and blind Mæonides,
And Tiresias and Phineus Prophets old.
Then feed on thoughts, that voluntarie move
Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful Bird
Sings darkling, and in shadiest Covert hid
Tunes her nocturnal Note. Thus with the Year
Seasons return, but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of Ev'n or Morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or Summers Rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud in stead, and ever-during dark
Surrounds me, from the chearful waies of men
Cut off, and for the Book of knowledg fair
Presented with a Universal blanc
Of Natures works to mee expung'd and ras'd,
And wisdome at one entrance quite shut out.
So much the rather thou Celestial light
Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers
Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thence
Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell
Of things invisible to mortal sight.

- Light, by John Milton

Light is what makes seeing possible, by the way.

This is a funny connection, to be sure, but to me the works of Milton strike me in about the same way as the works of H.P. Lovecraft. It's just the sheer tastiness of their language - the thickness of their verbiage and what each sentence points to in one's mind. The music of it. Lovecraft's specialty was of course prose, but those of you that have ever read his prose know that it reads like poetry. These guys were but two of the many authors that followed with me in my youth within the span of long summer days in a hammock swinging in my backyard. Languishing in reverie as I approached the perfumed gardens of Kled, or quivering with apprehension near the blackened Stygian pool - all in the space of an afternoon. And to wonder looking upwards what would come next... And to sink into a dream... Sweet.

DREAMS

Lately my dreams have returned to me in all their splendour and majesty. One big contributor to this is the fact that I have relinquished all sleep meds for the past few days, which is a stretch for me. I was told by Rosemary - an RN at Vista Health where I intern - that with a steady diet of Ambien, one can get to where one's brain is dependent on them for sleep. I guess I already knew that, but it was sure nice to sleep straight through the night (albeit with no memory of dreams - ever). What was left was for me to be able to teach myself to sleep. I had looked at all kinds of techniques and stuff before and I had heard of the following one that she mentioned, but honestly I didn't think it would have as much of an effect that it did. What she suggested was not to lay in bed after waking early (which is what happens to me all the time). Instead, if you can't get back to sleep in like 15 minutes, you get up and do something else in some other part of the house. For me, I must avoid computer and TV with their flashing lights. The last time I did this, I just went and sat in the living room for a bit in the dark and then went back to bed without doing anything except that. Tonight if it happens, I'll study for my NCE. That oughtta do it!

Last night I dreamed that my grandfather was showing me a baseball grenade which was covered in leather. In a lot of my dreams, I seem to be wandering through apartment complexes or houses with which I am unfamiliar. Sometimes these places are haunted, but it's more of a startling effect with these rather than an outright nightmare. I can't remember the last time that I had what could be considered a nightmare, and I imagine that's a good thing.

I rediscovered part of a dream journal that I had begun back in 2005. This greatly inspired me, as it appears I was able to stick with that one for some months. I don't remember having a lot of these, honestly, but that's what makes them even more endearing to me I think. One back in March of 2005 (I think that's the right year) includes the following:

I think I saw a spirit guide in my dream last night. All I remember is a doll, like a ventriloquist's dummy, sitting in a box on a shelf. He was scolding me for not being able to project myself out of my body yet even after all the books I've read and instruction I've received. Then I became lucid for a bit - I remember looking at my hand in wonder. Seems like the voice urged me on to fly, which I did. I know that I was in and around a forest, but I can't remember exactly where.

Such is the subject matter of my mind. I look forward to returning to such great adventures, as this is only the tip of the iceberg that I have seen in my time. One thing I would love to be able to do, however, is to type the dreams without having the blaring light of a monitor or the hassle of waiting for a computer to boot up. I'm sure I'll figure something out. If I can just get the gist of it down, it will serve to continue to exercise that part of my mind within which these precious jewels of the unconscious are stored.

"... We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep." (from Shakespeare's The Tempest, Act 4, Scene 1)

Writing just to write

Last night, drugged as I was on Ny-Quil and Trazadone (I'm convalescing from a sinus infection), I dreamed that I was climbing a light sandy brown cliff's edge and came across a rattlesnake on one of the ledges. It was right near my foot moving its diamond head back and forth, and I was thinking to myself "Shit! I hope it doesn't bite me!" That's about all I remember. I just recall the awkwardness of having to stay clinging to the cliff's edge and trying to dodge the snake at the same time.

Two primary goals I have for myself (which are more like hazy dreams at this point rather than goals) are to 1) take martial arts lessons and 2) take heavy metal guitar lessons. Two beautiful things which I would find a great solace in. I find many excuses why I shouldn't do them now, such as focusing my efforts to finish my degree, but really that wouldn't take too much of my time. I should just do it, shouldn't I?