|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Lucidity of RealityLUCID DREAMING: Realizing you are dreaming while dreaming
Last night I had a dream. What it was about really isn't important. That fact that I thought it was real, is the point. Well, my brain thought it was real, which is a challenging thought. How can my brain fool itself into thinking something that it created is real.
What is reality? Is it your senses: sight, smell, taste, touch, and hear? If that's the case it's just electrical signals interoperated by the brain. Nothing really more than that. It would be like a computer putting images on a screen. I think/know that the human brain is much more than that. We are all products of our environment, and I'm not talking about where you grew up. I'm talking about the universe. We are all inner-connected.
"Once, I had a Dream"
One dream can last between five to forty-five minutes in real time, but, while dreaming, it can seem to last several hours
Fractured Sky- Chapter 7 The sea.
Great, unseen currents swirling in its blue depths, foamy waves crashing on the sandy surface. A whole expanse of frothing, churning blue. A great tidal wave crashed over me, and I could taste the water. Strangely, it was salty. I had only drunk water from the well in my backyard, and the water had tasted sweet, but not salty. Why...?
It was not until then that I started to feel ashamed.
I had never thought that living in the sky was a privilege. Compared to living near the powerful, mysterious sea, living above was surely great. I had also thought that knowing everything above was a great accomplishment, but was it? After I surfaced in the sea, I finally realized that I wasn't that knowledgeable. There was still lots I didn't know. As I thought about my small piece of the sky, I realized it was only a small manifestation of the whole sky. The blue within was only a small part of t
Mina Sagaia's Day.It was another normal and clear day and at the Sagaia home, the day was just beginning as Mina's alarm was going off causing her to stir in her sleep as she reached over and after brushing around her desk, she finally managed to turn it off and sat up in her light blue pajama's with a half awake expression on her face and her hair in a bit of a mess.
Mina: "Mmm? What time is it?"
She looked at her clock and saw that it read 7 AM as she let's out a small sigh and get's out of bed as she put's her feet into her slipper's and walks to the bathroom to wash up. After washing up and going back to her room, Mina changes into her normal Blue Jumper and gray short's and heads out of her room to head to the kitchen.
Mina: "I wonder what She's making for breakfast?"
With that said, she turns the corner at the bottom of the step's and hear's humming as she enter's the kitchen to see her mother, Shia Sagaia wearing her normal outfit of a light purple blouse and black skirt with her apron on as she
Fractured Sky- Chapter 6 The well stood impatiently before me. I racked my brains and still couldn't find the answer. Suddenly, I was distracted by a group of miners. They ran past me, their mining tools clanging in the metal buckets the brought everywhere. Probably off to destroy my sky, I thought bitterly. A sudden thought came to my mind: bucket! I quickly fished out the metal bucket, stood in it and held tightly the rope used to haul up the bucket. If I let go, I might die, but at least it was worth a try. I let go and grabbed the other end of the rope.
The tough rope scraped my fingers as I clutched at it for dear life. The world whizzed around me as I dropped at an alarming speed. The wind whistled in my ears, and I stood rigid as a stone. The pulley creaked furiously as I went down, down, down.
Eventually, I hit the water with a crash. Although the water cushioned my fall, the splash sent stinging drops of water into my face and I yelped in pain. Befo
Fractured Sky- Chapter 5 As the days passed, less and less was left of my beloved shade of blue. The miners mined it all away. My world darkened and it rained every day in my heart. I would envy the naive children, running around without any worries. I longed to grow up, when I was their age. Growing up meant I could mine a piece of the sky for myself eventually. Growing up meant I could live without fear of the howling storms and dark nights. Growing up meant I could help my mother with her work... But now, after growing up, how ironic it is. I wanted to become a small child once again, to sleep cradled in my mother's arms, to play merrily with the other children, to watch the stars at night, and to have the blue, the blue, the blue. The sky was still blue at that time...
I had gave up all hope of seeing the blue again in this village. So one day, I asked my father," Is there a place with a lot of blue that never fades?" My father was once a traveler, and although he could no
Epic, the only Peak!The most fine art always has been Epic to me, where I belong to,
even and specially in romance.
In other words, Peak of art is Epic!
Though I know it also belongs to a terminated epoch,
when heroes were real greatness of will and sacrifice,
not just animated graphics! And that's why my writings tend to sound Nostalgic!
Like the horse which belongs just to the memories from cavaliers,
but not the vector of our real time of being.
Don Quixote was absolutely right in being born in a wrong time!
A comprehensive perception and emphasizing on this contradictory
brought Cervantes to the idea and the very point of creating Comedy (1).
I'm going to believe there'll be no achievement "In Search of Lost Time".
Proust knew well what to seek, but maybe was not aware of an unattainable hunt (2).
What is gone, is gone! And what will be, will be!
But also I think being aware of the past time may keep us from unwanted drowning in Tragedy,
and from being crumbled into tragic pit of life!
And this is
It appears you don't have PDF support in this web browser. Download PDF
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
Keep in Touch!
Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More