exactly three nites ago, under the full pink moon, i had another four dimensional, ten eighty kay lucid dream––these appear to be manifesting, iterating in ever–higher resolution with each nite that passes as i continue titrating up copper sulfate, nascent iodine, and colloidal gold doses, bee tee double you..

i wonder if these doses are the price of admission lolzz..

anyway, i would be immensely grateful if you could tell me exactly what this means..

i find myself at the highest level of a rarefied, bordering–on–utopian superstructure––a multi–tiered climbing academy of such unmitigated opulence that it transcends the genre of ‘gym’ altogether––converging on something else entirely, like a private, world–class sanctum of athletic ascendance, reserved for a vanishingly exalted and select few. the entire sanctuary feels like a case study in nauseating decadence––every surface and panel immaculate, every architectural flourish evoking excess and neurotic precision––as though cost became laughingly irrelevant forever ago..

from the highest floor, i occupy a position borne not of exertion, but of quiet, appraising dominion––perched somewhere in the superstructure’s empyrean, at a balcony vantage overlooking the ascent of others, and beyond that, the skyline of an adjacent city dissolving softly into lite..

through a vast aperture in the superstructure, a sheer rock face rises––part natural, geogenic formation, part contrived, anthropogenic construct––a vertical proving ground where climbers can test themselves against curated peril. from among the athletes in my purview, i make out the distinct physiognomy and aura of tom cruise, ascending with effortless precision, ostensibly untouched by the contingencies that bind ordinary anatomies. though he is accompanied by a safety harness, he does not rely on it––his discipline, acrobatic dexterity appear total, almost preeminent..

he reaches the summit––my level––and rather than dismounting onto the adjacent platform, he remains suspended in a state of poised, almost performative stillness. his climb complete, his purpose apparently dissolved, he lingers there in a state of quiet abeyance, tethered yet inert––as if the culmination itself has retroactively emptied the act of meaning..

my attention drifts. i stray momentarily, wandering into an adjacent room—which then grows reciprocally diffuse, liminal, briefly inhabited by other figures, then emptied. i return to the balcony believing i would be totally alone, only to realize that central casting never left. he is still there, suspended, resting within the tension of his own apparatus, his legs wrapped around his rope––although more loosely, precariously than i remember them before..

then, not long after, his voice––intimate, unguarded, vulnerable––rises with strange, pensive, ontological clarity, ‘i love you, kelly’..

and immediately after the words are uttered, i hear the sound of release––the tension of his harness giving way, lines slackening, a body falling..

moments later, the finality of impact––literally the most horrific thud i have ever heard––echoes upward from a distant, cold mezzanine..

i stand there, suspended in uncertainty, not of what happened––but of why. was it a failure of attention––a fleeting lapse in an otherwise perfect system..

or was his decision a deliberate, unannounced decision to let go––self–erasure?

the dream offers no answer, ontological clarity, or exposition––only the sepulchral echo of his body within hallowed, opulent confines, and an existential purgatory renascent..

LS

pee es. no feelings are considered in my writing of these posts––for all post suggestions or complaints, please see the eye dee gee ay ef clause located in terms of use section lolzz..