BOAT; OR -I DREAMED OF PHAROAH AND A WOMAN WHO DIDN'T KNOW SHE WAS A PHAROAH DREAMING I dreamed of Pharoah and a woman who didn't know she was a Pharoah dreaming herself into being. She'd made or was making a documentary about Egyptian theology and burial rites. From a bird's eye view or perhaps as a mechanical drone who was filming the work in the unknowable future, I heard Her voice say something to the effect of "The Kingdom unwittingly fell to ruin as hey hadn't thought to ask the people to pay entry to the Pyramid but instead they all offered their Gold and jewels to the then-dead idea of a Pharaoh preserved in bandages underground. So, the Kingdom lost the riches from its human hands but in their unified giving to One Source also showed the Ultimate Truth of self-generating animacy which is inside-out of everything. With the overarching unification through this Monolith[^Mo] the endlessly intersecting wheels within wheels of Hierarchies they'd erroneously (yet, crucially, contrastingly, for their own immediate survival) had built to structure their society. Without knowing, or perhaps fully knowing, they had exhibited the greatest singular donation of charitable giving in[^Gi] the history of time. " In the dream  I, aaa, talk, g, into her  *The woman I was watching as protagonist of this story was a girl, who was a woman, who resembled a girl who was my first and only girlfriend. She was trying to escape this place repeatedly, incessantly rowing a hollow wooden raft to an unknown location, not knowing I was also on the boat with her. Eventually, after many times of trying, I decided she'd performed this repetitive and tragically necessary farce for long enough. As I told her we were inside of a dream and that I'd woken from a deeper dream inside this one that Told me she was the dreamer of this one, she was incredibly afraid, or perhaps excited[^B] at the unveiling of this internal and heretofore unconsciously known, alternative escape route or definitely both. I had to console her it was her was dreaming this dream we were in* I was talking to a woman who was gossamer of god who did not know that she was gossiping about herself and she was trying to escape this world which was surrounded by a moat.  I joined her on her vehicle, at times of wood at times of plastic but always brought back to her shop she kept surrrounded by a moat. In the dream there was a documentary maybe written by the girl herself, now dead, immortalised through work she made about this pharoah she erroneously held as separate entity and held awe in academic detachment for pasts she saw experientially/temporally as kept surrounded by a moat. she kept coming back from her trying to escape across the river which was still but always changing and surrounded her a moat. she had made this film as proof or maybe pudding for the truth which i don't know if she had even realised yet but forsooth i spoke to her inside her shop of carboard loam-hued letters, golden locks and bone-made reams of decorative paper made for shrouding all the large typefaces three dimensional and not hollow but rather filled with emptiness once i felt comfortable enough to make my presence known and i was no longer found within her thoughts surrounded by a moat. I told her after building up the courage that I'd had a dream in which she was a God and she was dreaming up the world which was surrounded by a river to the underworld or where in dreaming we stay still but go which really i suppose is also known as dust which must just flow as closed and oval as a moat. Which is reversal for trying to make something from this mess which is ssem backwards which is S (Snake) and sem or half a seed then add N.e. as in can any Body hear me or any Thing means a thirst for Holy No Thing which at core of fruit is born as the Infernal Every Thing which is surrounded by a moat. All my songs and all the songs of every one through every record, recorded and unrecorded rhythm of all this ouroborian delorian or bored of black and white from lack of site built citadel of awe in dorian grey time were all for someone else just on the other side of trying to get through to you through rounded inklings sinking feeling weapons and conjecture of erected idols found beneath the ground which was surrounded by a moat. now all of the poorly handled tones blown through the basket reeds of unread music that i hear whether it's murky or so shatteringly clear my ears and mouth and 'I's owe all their boughs and rowing bows in knowing God is simply me who ever closer never towed but floating oh so nearer to the hearing clearing just a head approaching over this great Body scattered in dead leaves in growth is found in losing weight of waiting for the answered call of waving endlessly towards the going is surrounded by a moat. I woke up to return my silver coloured triple necklace chain, which I believe i have been receiving messages from the ancestors through (whether by actual spiritual /prismatic concentration through the amethysts (one a sphere surrounded by a soldered claw which holds onto it, one a rough and jagged raw form that hangs in the centre), via the channel of the potent symbols of the charms I have adorned it with, which are genuine silver and reasonably expensive, or simply, the intent to receive such every night, by placing it under my pillow before entering the dream realm, paired with the faith that, throughout every single day in the psych ward, this necklace provided some form of protection from the psychic energies in turmoil around me; paradoxically, though perhaps by divine providence, causing intense pain in my neck in the position of my throat centre, during the time i was there[^R] has now eroded at the points of the silver spikes, which dangle in their dance with gravity, and create small sounds akin to the triple wind chime I now use for divination which I do not fully understand with my mind but know with my heart. These colourful vulnerabilities exposing their supposedly 'inauthentic' or 'cheap' nature, I find incredibly beautiful, and I notice with each dream, with each ritual of hanging it about my neck each day like a noose, hooking and securing it in place as a baby in a papoose, writing ream after ream of Words which are mine but do not come from 'me' as I know it, relieving it from its waking post around the green fencepost of my central nervous Monolith, and placing it as a beloved, long-passed relative beneath my head in my dreaming, metastasise in coppery hue, the warm contrast to the true inauthenticity of the shroud of metal seeping upward through the spears, as pikes upturned and longing for a severed human head to display- Lifting the cruelty of my Temple's roll-blind, like an eyelid of a dreamer retiring their employment to enjoy what is perhaps their final waking day; I unveil a thickness of fog about the rooftops the likes of which I have never laid light upon - contemporary metal and ancient, undatable in carbon clay together, blanketed in an unspeakable opacity, showing me everything I could ever hope to know - A single crow, teetering His way to the central point of the central horizon of slate, black, unperceivable by empirical sense in their completeness (he could have, indeed, been lacking One constituent complementary half of his visual organs) peering directly into mine (I could have, indeed, been missing One[^B]) Dulcet tones of a Folk song[^W] wash around my ears warmly in the fledging winter cold, via the ancestrally delivered Will of the ancestors. Adoring the Work's Sound so intensely, I go to search for the Words, my most beloved thread of this crocheted winter jumper, finding none recorded. Instead, I am shown the familiar lyrics of another, different incantation I had once, or had never heard before[^B], by the same Bard.[^Boat] SMIB[^Hope] Time passes. And then - Upon discussing the fundamental Truth of the Paradox of Imminence Vs. Transcendence through the lens of the Pantheon vs. the Pleroma or Oneness, Selene reveals herself in the midst, directly ahead of me, from the still-open eye of my unblinded window. I realise that Selene is transfeminine and Endymion is her assigned perceived identity at birth, forever coming back to this pain, itself wishing for eternal sleep, or potentially [^Mo]: The word monolith comes from the Greek word monólithos, which means "made of one stone". Usages include: Geological formation; A monolith is a single, large stone or rock formation that is often exposed by erosion. Monoliths can be made of hard, solid igneous or metamorphic rock, and some are volcanic plugs. Large and powerful entity; A monolith can also refer to something large and powerful that functions as a unified whole, such as a political organization or Deity. Solid-surface basin; A monolith is a solid-surface basin made from a solid-surface material and supported by a modular steel bracket system. The monolith system is customizable and can be used in washrooms.  [^Gi]: 'Giving in' usually means to stop doing something by the internal depletion of Will. 'Giving out' usually refers to a device halting its function from external sources or absence of such, as in the running out of fuel necessary to maintain motion. [^B]: Or, perhaps definitely, both. [^R]: this pain was either an intensely worrying question of my physical/general holistic health, or an answer of isolation, forcing me to remain shielded within solitude by limiting my mobility[^B] [^Hope]: So Mote It Be[^W]. Or, Thank you my darling God[^B]. I know I must return to my relatively menial but, for now, much more financially lucrative employment as a software engineer in the majority of my waking hours, at some point soon, perhaps once my latest period of sick leave ends in around three weeks. I sincerely resolve to maintain these acts of recording this supposedly insignificant but deeply divine experience of living my life in solitude through The Word; no longer journalling my life, but my Life journalling I. I sincerely hope (perhaps, knowing) that I will persist in my unending rituals, finding poetry, always there, which was always there, in every single moment. I pray, I pray, dear God I pray, that I have the strength to revolve about this resolve enough for this to be enough [^W]: "Will It Be"[^Will] , a song my Michael Yonkers. [^Will]: Which is a question, Or, an answer to said question.[^B] which is to say it is a question which answers itself, round again like fencing waters of a most uncrossable moat [^Boat]: Navigate your boat / Keeping it afloat / Round and round / And round and round / And round and round the moat