I'm currently at battle with some upper resp. virus, this being day number two. I'm trying to drown it out with massive amounts of raw garlic. I don't know yet what is winning: the garlic or the virus. Perhaps they're calling a truce. All I know is the experience is giving me those moments where I find myself staring at nothing in particular, my mind suddenly in a world of its own, lending itself to a hallucination or two. I'd like to share a few of them.
While reading "The Fisher King", I suddenly became one of the Knights of the Round Table, on a quest for the mythical holy grail. I could feel the armor, cold, heavy. It's lonely under all of that metal.
Last night at 2:18 a.m., I woke up suddenly, thinking I heard a noise. For some reason, I thought we had a cat inside the house. I threw back the covers and stumbled out into the living room (to go look for a cat that somehow miraculously broke into the house only disturbing me but not our ever-watchful dog) but was sidetracked by my bladder saying "empty me now" which I did only to finish and wonder "what did I get out of bed for to begin with again??"
It was a wonderfully warm sunny day outside. I sat outside in my black yoga pants, sweatshirt, drinking hot tea, wrapped inside a blanket. I was still cold. (I know that wasn't a hallucination. I'm just trying to garner sympathy.)
A friend came over this evening. We all got into a metaphysical discussion. As I listened to him share his perspective on buddhist thought, my brain suddenly announced "too much information" and my imagination took over whereby I saw myself out in a field of lavendar, dancing under the moon. Seriously.
It took me 35 minutes to write the above. I've had to stop several times to remember my train of thought. Don't ask what I thought during these pauses as I don't remember. As such, I am going to bed now.