The Cathedral in His Dreams – A Flash Fiction Story (Part 3)

Here’s Part 3 of a piece of flash fiction about a Jungian analyst, a desperate young man, and digging too deep into the unconscious. This is the third and final part. It’s about 630 words and has an estimated reading time of 2.5 minutes. Let me know what you think!

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The Cathedral in His Dreams – A Flash Fiction Story (Part 2)

Here’s Part 2 of a piece of flash fiction about a Jungian analyst, a desperate young man, and digging too deep into the unconscious. This second part is very short, only about 230 words and has an estimated reading time of 1 minutes. Let me know what you think!

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The Cathedral in His Dreams – A Flash Fiction Story (Part 1)

Here’s Part 1 of a piece of flash fiction about a Jungian analyst, a desperate young man, and digging too deep into the unconscious. This first part is about 375 words and has an estimated reading time of 1.5 minutes. Let me know what you think!

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To Dream Away (a poem)

Now I lay me down to sleep, to dream away
Transported to underground realms
Dreaming in color, bright sounds
No longer astounded by the full-length movies
That play in my head at darkness

I decipher codes, break through modes
In which my inner eye tells me riddles
Prophecies of sudden global disasters
Screams and shouts from dark matter

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New World (Part 7) – A Poetry Journal

3-1-22 – 10:22 a.m.

I can’t get Russia and Ukraine off my mind. Nightmares of nuclear missiles in the sky. Images of urban warfare. All these journalists saying things will never be the same, the world has forever changed. Perhaps this is so. Impacts are indirect. It’s more the ambient threat and fear. It’s a psychic kind of pain, like a telepathic connection to world suffering.

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New World (Part 2) – A Poetry Journal

2-6-22 – 10:18 a.m.

Books burn in the field, pages, words down to ashes. Checked the shelf for all those naughty books; we had quite a few. Burning, church zealots, screaming. Medieval mindset, battle of good vs. evil. So much duality. Must integrate the light and shadow into a cohesive whole. The yin, yang.

Bitterly cold, but I like it. Music saves lives. So do books. Everything is an image, and images are what we connect to. My spiritual life is much different than it used to be. I don’t put in as much effort. Yet, I feel more connected. It is possible to be too concerned with such things. It makes one neurotic.

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The Devil Hiding in Plain Sight (a poem)

The searchlight found the devil
Hiding in plain sight
He has always been a vessel
For the children of the night

He sees me in my dreams
I can never quite escape him
Whenever I go to scream
He peels off my skin

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