transcend

deadly enemies,
best friends — relationships both
seeming to arrive
from nowhere, fully formed, as
though created outside time

Do we really write the script of our own lives? Who knows. If so, it must be some part of me beyond myself. I slept nearly twelve hours last night. Oversleeping can befuddle the dreamlife with too many forgotten dreams. But I seem to remember three dreams dimly. Two of the dreams involved women with whom I have felt myself in a relationship of enmity. One was my manager at work in 2010. The other was my stepmother’s mother. The third dream involved staring into a woman’s eyes in the knowledge that either she or I, or more likely both of us, were aliens. This was felt to be a positive. In terms of the poem, the alien suggests that realm of the completely unknown where friendships and enmities are decided. My stepmother’s mother died twenty years ago, but a few months ago I had a dream in which we had forgiven each other. In last night’s dream, I was embracing my erstwhile manager and realising the only thing that made any sense was for us to sleep together. I am always interested in finding the potential for friendship buried in an enmity. Maybe at some level they are simply the same thing. Empedocles had some interesting things to say about this.

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