Terribilis est locus iste

My beautiful mother

The dream-marks are all present; you should have recognized them earlier.

You are not you--you have no body, no blood, no bones, you are but a thought. I myself have no existence; I am but a dream--your dream, a creature of your imagination.

Strange, indeed, that you should not have suspected that your universe and its contents were only dreams, visions, fiction! Strange, because they are so frankly and hysterically insane—like all dreams

You perceive, now, that these things are all impossible except in a dream

We don’t exist, we are comprised of identities we are given and ideas we have adopted. We are made up of data we are fed, stories we hear, information we consume, opinions and convictions we decide to mimic and follow. We are naught but a construct of things we encounter and are programmed with that exist around us. Never an original thought, opinion, persona. Even in dreams we cannot create a face we have not seen while waking. Everything in our world and minds is limited to this universe. Every deity - no matter how fantastic- has pieces of animals or features or attributes that exist in this world already. No creation or idol is not of this world just distorted and mixed with more which is known. We are a machine that needs fuel, and is sustained by a mechanical pump, and functions with electrical wires from a computer brain. We are made from things that exist around us, metals, gasses, water.. we create our own insane dream- paper, metal, stones from the earth, decided as valuable and agreed to be strived for so hard and so fixedly. We decided to make paper and metal coins and decided to absurdly have to work for and struggle for the things that grow and exist and fill this earth naturally. And we carry on with such an insane empty unfounded act… so obviously mental and wrong.

We see the cycles go round and round. And know the planets go around and around. An orbit that is endless and constant like a train on a track. Like a mechanical clock. And no one wonders what or why it’s on a loop. Why nothing lasts. Why when we die our atoms are recycled into this flawed, imperfect, cycle of birth and death and never gaining anything but physical man made items and titles and personalities. Temporary. Pointless. Worthless

Maybe we don’t wake up because we cling to our illusions- our material collections, our fictional lives we have built and created and painted.

Dawny, I meant every message I sent you in the months before you left. You were truly in my head, in my heart. I hoped the green silver dragonfly ring my mum gave you before I lost her- the day you came over to watch the black phone and other horrors with us, would protect you or give you strength. You always made me laugh. Your honesty and genuine way was so inspiring. From events as a kid when you were laughing with my mum, to you being my manager at onestop. Our chats outside Hannah’s in the moonlight. The songs you’d share and sing so heartfelt. The stories you had. The support and acceptance and reassurance you gave. When you helped look for my duck after my mum died and I was a shattered crushed mess. How you brightened my shifts at the pet shop and made me laugh so much. Our talks about graveyards and haunted places and ghost experiences. The way you made my mum your screensaver on your phone so long after her funeral. Kissing her and talking to her. She always thought so much of you. And she rarely chose to interact with anyone. Always stood by you and truly proud- even when it was family that she was fronting. There was more films she hoped to watch with you. Cuddled on the sofa with my cat all over you when he’s the devil to me. He went to you from the start and was so loving. How you laughed at my face. You did my reference for my latest job, while you were fighting and in treatment. I told you no, and you wouldn’t hear of it. You were always so grateful- too grateful - when you were helped or spoilt. But you deserved even more. You were so fucking brave and you fought so inspirationally courageous in your stead, and still brought so much light and laughter and support to the table. Not many people could stand that tall and that consistent. That firey, authentic, unfiltered and unrestrained truth and spark that you embodied was such a blazing light- a raw full light- that at times it felt like you could never be eclipsed. It’s so rare that a person moves in this world with truth- heartfelt and unscripted and uncensored. You did. You didn’t care what people might think - you just WERE. And you owned your story- all facets- and you made me wish I was so brave and whole. I love you Dawny. You always said my hugs were intense- but I felt them. I felt it so much I was trying to pour that force into you. I wish we had gone to Denne road like we planned. That place has so much that is tied to my life. And it will always have you.

I will meet you there..