I feel like sharing my doodles here now that I’m drawing more than writing.
I feel like sharing my doodles here now that I’m drawing more than writing.
Today I don’t even feel like I
Am even a drop in the bucket,
am more of what’s left behind
Some residue and reflection on a beat up YIELD sign
All of the hatred washes over us like some desert-dry heat
Tiptoeing on baking tar,
we cannot even smell the burning of our own feet
We, the nameless generation of exhausted phoenixes who…
can combust no more
We, who were once the formiddable waves tumbling onto life’s shore
Reduced to drops in a leaky bucket
Worn down to a lazy middle finger, and a “fuck it”
On planet made of mostly water, we’ve found our way to dehydration
Separated ourselves with fences and nations
And all that’s left of me now is the faintest resignation,
Some signs on a park bench of evaporation.
❤ Leah Ruthe
We left off with the discovery that humans are the muses of the cosmos (at least in this dimension), and serve some sort of important purpose for the multiverse. Our creativity and our empathy are critical, as is our continued social evolution.
In the third dream, I found myself looking out of a giant glass dome, not unlike many of the viewing decks in sci-fi shows. I remember being mesmerized by the endless stars and vastness before me. I noticed the quiet and solemn presence of Etnu, my extraterrestrial guide. After a long moment, it occurred to me to ask, “Etnu, what are we doing here?” They replied, “We are witnessing the Big Launch,” with great emphasis on “big launch.” I had a lot of questions for Etnu, but I didn’t have time to ask any of them because his long fingers waved in front of my face, then pointed in front of us. Suddenly the space in front of us was filled with spherical pod-like vehicles; there must have been thousands of them. As the moved away they looked like glowing orbs, perfectly round lanterns floating off into the abyss.
I looked at Etnu, eyebrows raised. “Are they going to Earth?”
“Yes. Earth, and one planet beyond yours, which also contains a struggling species. Listen closely, Leah. These beings have been specially trained to help human social evolution accelerate quickly. You will meet three of them over the course of your life. The first will give you the records you have been unable to access. The second will teach you to balance empathy and critical thinking. The third will be your partner. You will recognize them when you meet them. Orion will be meeting two. He already has access to the records. The first to visit Orion will teach him to heal both animals and plants. The second will be his partner. He will also know them when he meets them. I will introduce you to them each in the coming months, so that you will not be confused.”
There was a long pause, as I tried furiously to commit these facts to memory. Please don’t let me forget when I wake up, please.
The last thing I can remember Etnu saying before I woke up was, “You will also meet the ones who are NOT helpers. We will prepare you for them…”
Until next time!
Seems as though
We fit as two bowls
We slide out of place
We wobble and sway
But we settle into each other
At the end of the day
–leah ruthe chatterjee
My friend convinced me to chronicle the sequential alien dreams I’ve been having lately. Blog dream journal takeover! Hope you’re as entertained as I am! –Leah R. Chatterjee
I remember opening my eyes to find I had fallen asleep on the ground in some sort of desert. I looked up into very large, golden eyes, with more pupil than iris.
“My name is Etnu. I’ll be with you from now on in all of your endeavors. I’m here now to take you to the conference,” said this very lanky, tall creature. I can’t say what sort of creature, but very humanlike.
Etnu was very long, androgynous, and their energy felt like home. I don’t know how else to describe it, but this person felt like family. So, without asking any questions, I took Etnu’s hand, and was suddenly hurled into some sort of tunnel. My ear pressure went berserk, and I remember pressing my free hand firmly against my right ear in an attempt to ease the aching. How exactly we exited this tunnel I cannot really recall, I just remember suddenly feeling a lurch in my stomach, and a large, circular room materializing around me.
“You are only invited to listen and observe, you understand? No talking,” Etnu said in a very matter-of-fact sort of manner. I nodded in reply.
Looking around the room, it appeared to be some kind of fancy conference room. There was an oval-shaped table surrounded by about 30 or so beings. Each one had a unique sort of outfit, but they all had similar features–hairless, androgynous, long. Hovering about six feet above the table was a hologram that was spouting a series of seemingly random numbers, but I soon realized this was some sort of translator. As quickly as I realized this, I suddenly began to understand what was being said by reading the numbers.
I seemed to be a fly on the wall of a very heated discussion. The topic seemed to be what to do about the “humans on Earth.” From what I gathered, humans were very important to their cosmic path, but there was a problem. Humans had broken tradition, and their technology was evolving faster than they were socially evolving. The problem with this was clearly that we had not resolved our petty issues (religion, politics, climate, etc), and were on a path of self destruction. It seemed to be of great concern to everyone present at this strange meeting that we would figure out space travel before we had learned to be a peaceful species. This would basically seriously fuck up all of their plans, especially if we figured out how to use black holes properly (!!!!! more on this later !!!!!).
There seemed to be an alarming amount of support for the annihilation of humans. “Start again from scratch,” said one particularly irritated being, “Remember Mars? It worked with Mars.”
“Yes, but we wasted an entire planet, don’t forget that!” Another asserted in a reasonable tone.
There was a lot of bickering about this point. Did they have time to wait for an entire evolution of species again? No. It didn’t seem they did. Just as I was really getting interested and feeling my way through the discussion, Etnu took my hand again, squeezed it as if to say, “time to go.” And the room faded away, and I opened my eyes to the spare bedroom in my parents’ house, where I had fallen asleep four hours earlier. I felt as though I had just been on a journey miles long, and my skin felt like one giant bruise. I was awake.
Strong wind sweeps through Bend,
and a string of rainy days
Feels more like Portland than the high desert today
I feel the pull of autumn,
run out of reasons to stay inside
So I hide myself in a hood,
and I take limping strides.
My mind wanders from counting all of the leaves that have died
To the loves I have fought for, lost, or threw into the outgoing tide
I think of the times my tongue was so tied,
and the many more times I let regretful words fly
The times my heart was so brave, but my body was not
All of the blows I took to avoid certain thoughts
I remember the taste of blood in my mouth, hot breath, the painful sting,
Leaving my body for hours, I remember EVERYTHING.
But I also recall the hands that lifted me up, the listening ears, the words, “i believe you,” being held through my tears.
I’m looking back on it all
It’s what I do in the Fall…
I search for glimmers of hope, as the layers of grief begin to erode,
I put it all in the petals of a purple rose,
throw it up in the air,
and watch it explode.
Leah R. Chatterjee