Part of me does not want to post today. I wrote a pretty decent1 post yesterday, and knowing about blogging like I do, I know most people don't read more than one post deep. Well, unless the previous post is illustrated with full frontal nudity.
Plus, I have the crud. The crud that everyone seems to have now. I don't want to write.
I had a dream last night. I dreamt of my grandmother. I had a close relationship with my grandmother – she really was a special person. She lived a good, full life, dying in her mid-nineties. She was ready to die. All of my grandparents lived long lives, one of which even told me, nay, shocked me, when telling me once, "I am ready to die." I was young and idealistic, and did not really contemplate death until that day.
Well, my grandmother, after her death, started visiting me in my dreams.
The brain is a funny thing – made up of neurons soaking in organic liquid that gives us our thoughts – the "brain power" I am using to write this now is merely neurotransmitters – that's all science can prove. So I can't prove that my grandmother is visiting me from the grave. In fact, science can't help and my religion2 can't either. Both are silent on the topic.
I chose to believe my grandmother visits me. She does so when I need answers. She talks in her own way, and sometimes she doesn't give me the answer I want to hear. Even if it is not really her, it gives me comfort. Perhaps the neurotransmitters in my brain are a little sweeter now that she has passed. And I don't even want to know what the Freudians would think of such a revelation.
Before a relative died, I was scared that all of this religion was wrong. That once you are laying in that pine box, you have made your last curtain call. You are no longer anything but food for whatever can penetrate that pine box. Personally, I hope they go after my neurotransmitters last.
I have a few more things to tell my grandmother.
1By pretty decent, I mean I made one decent point, referenced a couple of interesting YouTube people, and it only take twenty minutes to write.
2The Catholic Church used to believe in "speaking in tongues." You can see it in the second book of Acts (Acts 2:4-8). It can also be found in Mark, James and several other places in the Bible. The Catholic Church no longer acknowledges that people in this day in age can speak in tongues.
Friday, February 08, 2008
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3. My Stories. Yeah, I have a few erotic stories here. I know, they are not all that good, but they were fun to write. Don't read them if this offends you (and they represent less than 1% of the content here). These stories have elements of truth and fantasy, some more true than others. Complain about something that is a bit more substantive if you must complain. I have lots of faults.
18 comments:
"The crud" my mother calls it that.
Once you're in the pine box, you are food. I don't think your religion says anything different...does it? I'd have to go look. I'm lazy, tell me!
Of course your grandmother visits you. I think that is one of the reasons we have special people in our lives, so their legacies can carry on long after they're gone. I'm glad you had the sort of relationship with your grandmother that I had with mine.
Oh, and may you soon be 'crudless'.
prata: did I mis-spell crud? crap. Oh, well, not sure if I am worm food or beatle food.
ian: thanks, sweetie.
I don't blame your grandmother, I'd not want to let go of you either.
I had dreams like that about my grandfather. Whose to say it's not true. I think there are things we just have to accept that aren't logical.
~Jef
I have dreams with my daughter in them, sort of based on real past events, but often involving people that she did not know, like my current wife.
My first wife, had bad dreams about her evil GM, and also dreams about her good GM. So it goes both ways, maybe its a way to resolve things, but my first wife died without resolving her bad GM.
My current wife has dreams about her parenst as well, and heck, even my dog has dreams when he si in a real deep sleep. Being a wolf, he often doesnt sleep deeply, he always seems to have an eyelid cracked open, but he will occasionally get into a deep sleep, and he snores a very slight amount. During these times, he will get his legs jerking like he is running. So, how does he dream, what does he dream about. I dont know, but i know he does.
Dreams are so odd, I have reoccuring horrible nightmares that are no fun.
But when it comes to the pine box, cremate me because I don't want little wormies all over me
kathi: you are so sweet.
edge: well-said.
larry: interesting, Larry.
sassy: little pink thingies swirming over me for eternity. I'm okay with it.
A very sweet post, in its own way. I too contemplate from time to time the notion that my faith could be just wrong, and I will only be worm's meal. It gives me a chill every time, but usually something happens that makes me think, somehow, some way, there's something to all this religion stuff.
Did you mention full frontal nudity?
I've searched high & low
or maybe I should read the previous post to find out more
My grandmother used to visit me
but I guess nowdays she no longer has time
I've got the "crud", which is why most of my posts are either someone else's or a video.
Regarding your topic: religion vs. neurotransmitters - I have to say it's pretty interesting because whenever I hear stories about how someone had a near-death experience, they usually describe floating up to a bright light. Science tells us that the bright light that is often described is our brain shutting off, producing a chemical which simulates the "bright light", which is why most people describe the same exact thing.
It is often said that our deceased loved ones usually visit us in our dreams. Now, the reason why I believe that it is our deceased loved ones "sometimes", is because a week before I was supposed to visit my grandma in the hospital after her stroke, my mom warned me not to go because I may get shocked due to her appearance. I didn't care. I was going because I loved her and I wanted to be there for her. Well, I went to sleep a few days before she died, and she was already considered brain dead, however, in my dream, she came to me and said, "Please don't visit me, I don't want you seeing me like this."
The next morning my mom came upstairs to my room and told me grandma passed on.
Was it my brain? Or was it my grandmother's hard-headed way of telling me "NO"???
I like to believe it was.
Speaking in tongues was a huge thing in my church. One person would speak this unique language, and then somebody in the crowd would rise up and interpret it for the entire church. I went to a trinity assembly type of church (born again) and was amazed by this. Was it planned? Or did this actually take place? It's a huge mystery to me with speaking in tongues.
So much for my crud. It takes one of your thought provoking posts to trigger my writing. Sorry to hog the comment section up.
By the way, thanks for sticking up for me at it2m. :) It wasn't a good review at all!!!
P.S. They could have at least insulted me or given me a heap of criticism - which I was looking forward to. Hmm.
blodges blog: I sometimes think my religion is wrong, but rarely think things are as they seem.
quasar: I don't see my grandma in full frontal nudity.
~deb: I believe that there is so much we don't know. And yeah, your review was half-hearted.
subconscious: is this spam or not. Can't tell.
Quiet what a beautiful thought and how well you have depicted it for us.
You know what, I have seen many of them and heard the story that goes with them. I really like that a lot.
Thanks so much for sharing.
Leesa,
I am back...I wanted to share one of my recurring dream with all of you.
I had a dream. I am on a bus sleeping and am vaguely aware of people in what look like chemical warfare suits approaching me down the aisle. I am half conscious and don’t really know if it is a dream or not. I am trying to wake when someone injects me in the neck. I try to move but I am paralysed and I lose consciousness.
When I awake I realise that I am on the bus again but this time there are no other people. I am surprised to find myself still apparently in the dream. I notice bus door is open and that there is a light there; it is a cold white light devoid of comfort. I have no intention of being in that light, instead my instincts tell me to hide.
The air is very cold and there is an absolute silence. There is an absence of all sound and I wonder if I can hear. I feel fear and cannot move. I am telling my body to move but the signals are not getting through. I am in some kind of narcoleptic state. I feel the fear of someone who knows that life may shortly end.
I am desperately struggling to regain conscious control. I am struggling for my life. Something is approaching and I know that it is coming for me. I realise that I don’t have much time left. I know that when it finds me then my life is finished. I am aware that the only way out is to find myself. I wake up for real this time.
Angel
Thanks for sharing your story.
Ur Very welcome!!!
Have a lovely weekend
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