JOURNAL ARCHIVE: From: Kerry Burgess
Sent: Saturday, February 11, 2006 4:05 PM
To: Kerry Burgess
Subject: Re: Sleep journal 2/11/06
Kerry Burgess wrote:
Nothing spectacular about my dreams last night. I remember two different segments. One had some basic symbolism in it that seemed uninterestingly relevant. The other was more complex and had symbolic elements in it as well. I guess they decided to not screw with my mind as I slept because they read my journal last night that I was expecting it.
After I wrote the first paragraph, I then started typing in the date on the subject line and something struck suddenly about the date. I think it was part of a dream last night that I have forgotten.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 11 February 2006 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: From: Kerry Burgess
Sent: Saturday, February 11, 2006 4:05 PM
To: Kerry Burgess
Subject: Re: Sleep journal 2/11/06
I have also been wondering, thinking back to that dream manipulation in 1999, whether my dreams are literal interpretations of what they are suggesting or whether my own mental mechanisms are producing something different from what they want. In other words, when I was waking up calling out my friends name, was it because that is what the dream terrorists wanted me to do? Or were they making indirect suggestions such as "you should talk more to someone you work with that you have a strong connection with." I wonder if they were trying to manipulate me to hooking up with someone I had no interest in and I was interpreting it to represent someone I was close to.
As crazy as this dream terrorism sounds, I have absolutely no doubt it has been happening.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 11 February 2006 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: From: Kerry Burgess
To: Kerry Burgess
Sent: Saturday, February 11, 2006 6:51:59 PM
Subject: as of a drama
In regard to his companions his mind wavered between two opinions, according to his mood. Sometimes he inclined to believing them all heroes. In fact, he usually admired in secret the superior development of the higher qualities in others. He could conceive of men going very insignificantly about the world bearing a load of courage unseen, and although he had known many of his comrades through boyhood, he began to fear that his judgment of them had been blind. Then, in other moments, he flouted these theories, and assured him that his fellows were all privately wondering and quaking.
His emotions made him feel strange in the presence of men who talked excitedly of a prospective battle as of a drama they were about to witness, with nothing but eagerness and curiosity apparent in their faces. It was often that he suspected them to be liars.
He did not pass such thoughts without severe condemnation of himself. He dinned reproaches at times. He was convicted by himself of many shameful crimes against the gods of traditions.
In his great anxiety his heart was continually clamoring at what he considered the intolerable slowness of the generals. They seemed content to perch tranquilly on the river bank, and leave him bowed down by the weight of a great problem. He wanted it settled forthwith. He could not long bear such a load, he said. Sometimes his anger at the commanders reached an acute stage, and he grumbled about the camp like a veteran.
http://www.online-literature.com/view.php/redbadge/2
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 11 February 2006 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: JOURNAL ARCHIVE: From: Kerry Burgess
To: Kerry Burgess
Sent: Sat, February 11, 2006 7:19:45 PM
Subject: a world for him
It rained. The procession of weary soldiers became a bedraggled train, despondent and muttering, marching with churning effort in a trough of liquid brown mud under a low, wretched sky. Yet the youth smiled, for he saw that the world was a world for him, though many discovered it to be made of oaths and walking sticks. He had rid himself of the red sickness of battle. The sultry nightmare was in the past. He had been an animal blistered and sweating in the heat and pain of war. He turned now with a lover's thirst to images of tranquil skies, fresh meadows, cool brooks--an existence of soft and eternal peace.
Over the river a golden ray of sun came through the hosts of leaden rain clouds.
THE END.
http://www.online-literature.com/crane/redbadge/25/
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 11 February 2006 excerpt ends]
