(no subject)

[proximoception]

I wonder if we'd have come up with god without dreams. It's not really important whether we actually have some mechanism of speaking to ourselves in dreams, or instead our attempts to understand what's happening in them allow us to interpret order into our own detritus, during or after immersion. Either way you get the prospect, memory, expectation of a written world, albeit a crazy, hazy, fragmentary, protean one. Designed-looking experiences. Before we accepted it was us we must have thought it was something else messing with us, some thing or things that knew about our days - giving us the concept of a not-us that was both in us and outside us. But even with that discarded it gets us used to the notion of designed worlds, message worlds, experiences as balls thrown for us to catch. Who we are when we're not there, the other night meat. Imagination we control, and anyway it's barely happening, is underwater water coloring, but dreams provide the full sensory range, or anyway narrow our consciousness past remembering what parts of the sensory range might be missing.

We need to make totalizing statements but we need to compartmentalize them. Out here and in there aren't disconnected, but there's a ferry, two planes and a yak ride between them.