Dreams. Unfortunately you can't avoid them, unless your brain decides you don't need them.
For years, I have suffered (for lack of a better phrase) architectural dreams. Hours, I assume, of deep dreaming of lines, measurements and randomised form. Never articulated into an actual shape. And then wake in a panic. Hoping for goodness that I sleep again without this formed nightmare. And I always feel pressured.
Pressured by the conformity.
Pressured by the pattern.
Pressured by the inability to escape from a subconscious existence.
But part of me doesn't want those dreams to die. That complexity, although irritating at 3AM, seems to feed something in me that is inescapable. A desire for structure, inside a swirling world of chaos.
This is my best to be able to describe it in video form, in short form. Just repeat repeat repeat.
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