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Written upside down.

I had a dream, and in the dream I wrote a poem, and the poem was about a place most wondrous and strange. I wrote what I remembered of the text upon waking, and for many years I was haunted by the palace described in my dreams yet never seen therein. Yet after quite some time I learned that my poem was already written, almost half a century before. I was told that I must have read it once, forgotten, and then recalled it in a dream, though I doubted it myself I had scant little explanation myself. But then I learned that people had argued for years over who had actually written my poem, for many had published it, quite separately, at different times and places. And all of them said the text had come to them, finished and mysterious, in a flash of inspiration or in a dream or drug-addled reverie. Intrigued indeed I began to read more on the issue, learning that the poem was thought to be inspired by the story of a palace built by an emperor many thousands of years ago. Yet when I read of the emperor and his palace, I found that he had built it after being inspired by a most moving dream he had, trying to recreate what he had seen in sleep. So where is the true palace? Is the dream trying still to make us build it, or are we all, across the centuries and millennia remembering a castle hidden somewhere in the world, be it past or present? For verily, it seems that none of us truly wrote the poem, but rather received it from some unknown force, projecting visions and texts into our minds. Should we then look for it, scouring the world and penetrating the most hidden valleys and scaling the most remote mountains to locate a palace of mystery, where dreams are projected across times and worlds, or should we join together all art and craft to make a new palace, so the dream and poem has a place to reside within. And if we do, what then? What will success bring?

Also: Three short lines in the Hyneb alphabet is written in red ink inbetween the lines of the main text.


Alphabets: Hyneb

Translation:
fair trade was a
demonic sacrament of
epic proportions

See also:


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