I reexamined the ceiling, and some its finer flaws. The rust, the tile which is a 90s kitchen floor, and unmotivated patchwork. It would have been better if it was just gangster and dirty kind of like the seafood. #dirty #gangster #eating #whiteblush #mood
Working on a theory of metaphysics. If you take dreams to be the truth and physical reality to be false construct like completely inverted to all appearances what would happen on both dimensions. Tell you later.
This still is from my visit to Riverwoods Cemetery in Des Plaines, Illinois. My mom and I were stepping into another administrative building to finalize arrangements for my father’s ashes. It doesn’t look occupied or in active use anymore, it was like a dead building, just like the dead people buried all around this plot of land.
I was present for my father and his dying process. I am wondering what he is doing at the moment, not being in physical form anymore, but perhaps his soul is in the ether co-existing with me in a different dimension of space/time, and sending me strange dreams, light, and information of what happened to him prior to passing away.
Eerily I had one nightmare about a week prior to his death in which we were both hiking up a mountain at night. Suddenly, we were up so high there were huge boulders everywhere so it was steep and difficult to walk or see. I remember there were others trapped there, and that is when he had fallen and passed away. I thought it was just a dream.
I wanted to be at his bedside when his health took a dive so he would know he was not alone. In hindsight that was naive and simple to imagine I could control that much. But I wasn’t expecting him to leave me so abruptly. I am ruminating over the last couple of years how difficult it has been caring for him, what I could have done better to prevent what happened toward the end. I feel shattered about how he died, but also feeling peace in knowing he doesn’t have to suffer anymore either.