How I Feel/Flood

How I feel

..“I noticed that he had a watch in hand that looked familiar.He was me from a dimension torn free of the future. ‘We’re not gonna make it..’ He explained how the end will come. 'You and me were never meant to be part of the future…All we have is now. All we’ve ever had is now.'” -The Flaming Lips, “All we have is now.”

I feel like.. my future self has come from the future, back to the past, in order to arrange the correct circumstances for the future to take place in the way that it already has.

I don’t know what else to say.

Flood

“Speaking of tomorrow, how will it ever come?” -Wilco, “Ashes of American Flags.”

At first, the entire panorama was bluish-green. Pure, rippling, color. Then I realized it was water, enveloping the land, rising, climbing toward us. Looking out at isolated points not yet covered, processing the inevitable, we all were mostly silent.

The water was so beautiful, but how was that? Shouldn’t it be muddy-brown? Combinations of colors and reflections between water, sky, and the sunny/hazy conditions did not fit the scene. The rising water fuels our dread. We must now act. We begin to walk again.

The location is unknown. Clay is the predominant soil, so maybe it’s the southwest. There are maybe twenty of us. We walk quickly in silence. Onward and upward, amongst us the tension is tangible.

The only sounds are footfalls, redistributed rocks, and breathing. The water overtakes a mesa to our west. A glorious sunset frames the slowly disappearing high ground. Some in our party stop and stare. The others continue moving. The land is no longer visible. The moon begins its rise. Those who have stopped once again begin walking. The cave’s entrance was the last image I saw before waking.

It’s 7:30 on a Wednesday morning. Grabbing a pen, I struggle with grogginess to at least write a key phrase or word to remember this most recent dream. The feelings it evoked. Just one word to describe the soft, washed-out beauty of the dream’s surroundings in contrast to destruction’s inevitable outcome. My attempts to return to that dreamscape were futile, like the dream’s situation itself.

Eventually, I turn on the television. Cloudy skies cover Denver after overnight rain. The high temperature will be 44. Today is just another day. People continue to go about their business. Yet, on another plane, the water slowly rises while those left behind plan their plans and hope, just a little.