Seas-a story of dreams.
Seas is the story of dreams. The great oceans of unconscious dimensions we all play when asleep. That when not awake we travel a unseen dimension and take on all sorts of new and imaginative concretions and coordinations. Teaching and instructing us and we spend each night in subconscious pretext and parallels. That it is a place we never see, never fully-know and never really exist except in pretense and pragmatic denoting. Read: "Seas".
[Sample:]
SEAS
by
D.E. Allen
@2025 Danny E. Allen LLC
KDP.Amazon.com edition
This book is about the other world in mindfulness, the substance of dreams and thought within as a world itself. Dreams are stories our brain tells us from beyond reality. They are unbenounced tales, instruction, expression, manifestations and in order a sustaining magnitude in deep underworld of all things living.
[Start:]
He was a common-worker, with ideas of spending... He knew much of people, earning large-sums... By being-cunning, and “sharp”. He was shopping-at the Walmart, thinking it was similar entirely-to the Truck Depot-repair store. He was wearing a Sports-Jerzey, and blue cargo-pants. ...He wore-glasses, just-prescribed. It gave him-reminders of his “high-school”-days, of making-fun of geeks; while being-on the varsity-team... He'd showered, a day-ago. ...He was mostly, serious about his-upkeep... Which reminded-him of the cologne-aisle... A lady walked-by, with mid-range expensive popular-perfume... Which she-ignored, and wanted-to be ignored... He walked-on to an open-window-paine of the store, with sunshining-outside. ...Which made him-think of going-back to work-tomorrow... The lady-wore a blouse, a dress and her hair-done in relaxed-curls... The sun, was going-down soon. She had to go pick-up her kids, at Kindergarten. Which always reminded-her of fears of being-in grade-school. ...They-were her responsibility, were she once was irresponsible; she thought-back on how “silly”, that-was. The cashier-watched the people come-up, check-out and barely noticing him; simply-ignoring him. How money, was the most important-thing. He-was lucrative. He could afford-his '93 Mazda-Coupe, that was all-well and good... He wondered, if a nice apartment-option would-be opened-soon...
The day-passed, and evening-came. The sky-first was a tortoiseshell blue, a magnum-orange then a deep-purple. ...The winds picked-up, the clouds rolled-in; then-out. The warmth-dropped-into a chilly-coolness... All the days events, were ending. The homes, in the neighborhoods first stood; than in-structured upon their groundbase. Windows shone-lights, then darkness; yards-with grass-settled, as insects were-active... The orb of the moon-rose across the dark-sky... He-fell asleep, after a day of work. He forgot about the days-events. What he did was only-evidence of shopping, were items now, his; and pertained to what was a simple-convenience. She was at home, with her-kids after a long-day; it was “simple”... But life had to be complicated, intentional and interstitial. Being worked and a wife, were two pivotal-conundrums. The cashier liked going-out with his dog, his best-friend. He had anxiety-issues. That it was life, to be excited... They dreamed, the mind was released. The dawn came-in the-unconscious... Time stopped, space-cosmosis, perception were in a new-plane. The Seas of cognitive-blew, each-into new-universes and as universal...
Outside, no longer existed, the solo-competence was thrown far-beyond psyche. ...Incense-intention and innate-complex, launched-into a profounding, and as pre-fix. ...Thousands of point-of-views, impressions and magnitudes; same-set, and dissipated... -Observing a ship-out to sea, he looked steadily-at the crew... He barely, noticed but he was a “sailor”... The ship was an 18th century-vessel, the Captain was going about re-directing the crew; as they went into-action. It was normal-crew's activity. There was a commotion, and he-vanished into another-realm. He was women, at a Royal Tea-party; quietly, sipping-tea. Dressed-in early 20th century, clothing. He-didn''t notice, he-was-she, but felt-content. It sort-of relieved him, he-she seemed-to be conversing-with the other-ladies. He felt a heavy sense of respect and dignity. Then, several nonexistent midnights later he was as WWI soldier sitting in a muddy dug-out. But susbstantially and surprised he woke up. Then he was a beaver in a river, just coming out of Winter-season. Its kin, were dead...
By 6 am, he awoke not caring about his-sleep. But in its regalia, was the seeming relaxation; and accepted it-was. That same night, she-his passerby, was thinking of her soon to be dead-husband, how she knew she'd have to look-after him. She imagined to be very-sure, he was diagnosed. But now, it was a normal-routine of dying, death and utter-loneliness... She wanted to see him improve, but death was in the back of both their minds... There were terrible-ideas, she-thought of dashed-hopes, disappointments depression, denial and forlorn... She went to sleep and relaxed in-bed. She dreamed of a car racing-event... Of all the people, cars and fun she-was having. Then the sky-darkened. And rain-began to fall. First-it felt refreshing. But thunder and lightning, with strong-winds-grew. Ever-apprehension, then she-awoke at a hair-salon getting her hair-done. She could feel the dryer on her-head. That 2 salon-workers, and a customer who was in the dryer and talking. Something about the games? One was being-descriptive...
If in the way her husband-watched every change, she could; then they talked of a labor-party they were to have. Then she thought of hot-dogs, when she'd passed the dreamer... She thought of him and then they were sitting in a traffic-jam and remembered-it in an atoning. They'd as, if seeing-themselves and carried-on; forward...
The mind, carries-on igniting-convocation; perspectives, that were within. Which conceptions occurs and by-which contantamation-resolves, absolves and reignites. Of all self-senses-of attention, logic and critical-attainment. The many figments, fosters and focuses... Of gains, of aspects and epitomic-consistences... Thinking which both apt, and adept human-experiences. Of many emotions, accounts and accomplishments...
...Sequential-achievement and accountability, accomplishment. Of interactions as accords and acknowledgeable-fulfillment. Mentality-occurs, and orchestrates... Saul, was a restaurant-owner, as he passed his many-cooks, waiters, shift-leaders and service-people. He was an appealing and intuitively, quaint and acumen meal-preparer... He'd lacked-sleep but business had to go-on. When he did sleep, it was between breaks, and bases-on timing. That instincts and understanding-heed for constant utter-conducives. People-from many walks-of-life visited his-diner... That dimensions, designs and defect-made for both simple-contention, and enlisting-concurring. He was a life-long lovers of food. He was born in '61, when things were simpler but more cloistered. That you stayed-in one, and went about life; intact and intentionally...
It was 6 am, the restaurant had to be opened at 8:45 am. He'd grabbed a 3-hour shut-eye, after a long over-night. It was Tuesday. It would be a slow-day, until some Mardi Gras, Easter or baseball-party; cracked the ice... A canon went-off, then another, but not in a reality. It was a pre-1900 war, goings on. A battle, they were winning; but people were dead, everyone was fighting, with musket-bayonet, and hand-to-hand. He was sitted in the back. There were plumes of smoke. The sky was hazel and he could hear-yelling. Then he saw the possible-General, just watching them battle-in the fields... He'd awakened-from seeing his- dream; someone-knocked on his apartment-door, to his-home through his backdoor-window. He-knew he had to ready-for work... ...He was there to deliver, his-car from the mechanics. He-signed the receipt then both peered-at each other, with denied; but dedicated plural-congeal... As the walked-away, they both had a momentary glimpse; he tacit, reached Ben and Saul, had went their-ways...
A new-day was with resigning-cost; ready-at Saul's restaurant. The dreams, were there with her-dying husband for a last-”hurrah”... She just noticed-him glancing in the table's night-light the going-back to her husband. ...Ben, was waching-TV when a pretty-women came-on the screen. It was Dina Canfield, journalist for that TV-channel. He realized, he didn't get-out much. He sat watching, then he had a phone-call from his-mother throwing him back to the women who'd been about to pick-up her-kids. Both, were worried. He-understood but nothing, they could do. His mother reached a deeper-self of what the dreamer and her son were part of each, as hopes and dreams-for family. Somehow, they'd be alright; and succeeding had dreams of fear and fault, by theirs subsided-into an excess, and division. There-had been a scheme-every mother knew... They existed-with the lie of dishonesty, disrepute and disaster. The flame of love, many originated in relegance-of as a blame. Her-mother told her, and her-father said-noting; but both-knew they'd made a young-mistake. ...In the restaurant, his-mother also; was a distinctive-figment...
That a-dream of duly, and judgment; set-upon all-5; but only with as decisions, and devotions. That-was partly, why; they were, who they-were. The unconsciousness-felt in the Seas of outer-nonconnection... Where their brain pieced together effective and evident resound and resonation of earth, people, place, time and touch-point. All had-emotions under-dealt, but over-compensative. The day-blossomed, Saul-left to relax in the pause as the crew-suggest he-do... Dreams-in the Seas of cummulation-evaded, evinced and accented by an enacted; in the timeless-world of a time-place continuum. He-was coping. Working the 5am-to-8pm, turnaround... He was there for “incidents”, as he-reach the intersection, down-with Saul. And Ben had glanced at him along the road-earlier they went with the traffic-light. Steve was a 6-year hoping-for 12-years, veteran-of the force... Spirited and spatial, he had been an exceptional-officer of the City-Police. He thought of how he'd watched the sun-rise... And the night before the rest, after Lasagna by a girlfriend whom was a good-cook...
Direness and duty, were his-hallmark. The one, it was. He'd dreamed of being awhile near a ship-vessel paddling on the waves with men looking-on onboard. He wasn't sure, but somehow they were watching-him. It was relaxing, and soothing. He stayed-near the ship. Then he awoke as a Snowy Owl in the depth of winter's night, just staring; he, watching as its blue-green eyes stared-directly at him; then his-dream went-on even-further, but less recognizant. He-was an officer, you couldn't stay ennobled for long. He had-to be accountable, and active. Even though he held some wild and eccentric-spirit. He went a house to inquire about a-theft. A boy-sat in a yard-down the street. An 8 year old, he was into fantasy, exercised and school...
He'd been a night-owl, which suited-him well. He enjoyed but had to be careful, not to awake his-mother or two-sisters. They were day-people but at night things fell in-place. He sneaked out of his-room to eat a snack. Eating food at night, had a stronger -gratification. Things were simple under-darkness of night. But once sleepy, he passed his mother's bedroom. The matriarch, she made him do-all the right-things. He managed to sleep-off the excitement but she dreamed of when she was a girl, and had a dad scawlding her over-making a simple-mistake. Then she went into a dream, as being in a clothing thrift-shop in the 90's. Where there were people there having-fun she knew she shouldn't have. And witnessing military-bootcamp of her older brother-defiant and careful. Wonder what he met there, and not in the war-zone. Her-dream had a different-entity. The officer was a grand-child of two generations of soldiers. He'd thought he'd been one too, but he was not accepted so with knowledge and a self-suit of dedication he had the police... That “spells and dispels”, created a devoking sense, and uncognizance-of dreams of military, duty and dedication. Where dreams-residing, life-noting wife and kids; and a whole-reconstruct, and discipline, duty and dedication; to a reality to be afforded...
Ben knew his female customers, which were needing his-hope... Like-usual, he did his-job. He seemed content and sublime and that went with the job. They'd young-girl protracts, about him. Of odd and out-of-place longing in-cloudiness. That the two had dreams of forfeit-direness, designs and destinies. But though wild, went a ways-of exacting and expressive night-flashes. They saw the “boy”-of the vividity; and knew the wife of the officer; she had dreams of her husband, and was the one-passing the mother in the store... They'd glanced-across each other, with the truer-sense of what was, and wasn't to come... ...The dream-world launches-on the mind's eye. Of the spirit, behavior and focus transing and re-transing-across the mind's many trajecting void-lines.
Aspect, deed, detail and devotions are sure of the pre-work and worked-in nexuses of thought, self-theory and innate-themes... Sanity and transgression, reach and reach-out to the simple conjuring-insight, plight and understanding. Distance, detail and denote and connote in their human's post and guidelines. That it was a sardonic-life, salvo, depicted and disposed-by awe and arnate; if endless and voided-course and projection. It in its original ascent, resolve and signify emerging-political of what is, was and could-be in the focant to formed, body and spirit... Desire and contingent-whiffled-wave through the delineation, descent of mind, body, pliary-onto and across-worth, will and waiver.
Shep, sat-on a porch in town; just looking-around. The day was long, nights faithful and solemn: air comfort, noise-light and wind-becalmed. There he was atop a terrace-basket on the oceans. He configured-it out, but once asleep; he was other-worldly. He like many people, he was a case at time; that fulfillment and filia, were tandem-transits. It only, meant limited conrol. And illegitimate conferring. It was a confirm and equal confession, perplexity, complexed and resolving. There-were all-forth of reconfigured-imaginary, concepts; incepts and decepts but the roots-to the seas to dreams-ocean that you tended to let go and go-free. This being the lone foster of entailing outspanse of the dreamment...
An assailant, was mixing Meth in the basement-for sale. He was poor, with unlimited-access with the only mandate: not get caught. He thought of all his-users. It was like a dream, get paid for mixing stupid-stuff and then-sell, sell sell. Privacy and precept were like the only-strength he knew he had in-life. He slept lightly. It was a disturbed conscience but a transversing and trialed sleep. He dreamed of poor Mexican making food. He was taught how to make food. He was taught now, how to make food; and new-Meth. The chemicals, were odorous; this drove him to be eventual-alert and agitated. He awoke and the Meth was done-only needing-packing. He went before sleeping dreaming-of the life of astronomy. He drank Taquila-then and now...
Existing, dwelling, acting and accounting were every-creatures living, and absolving. That poised, proved and a pracitcal; as are the enormous-intact impact, we all-hold... The deriding and devising, are our-pretense and practical-accord. That we're born, breather, thriver and liver in a total-conscience. We rove and ride with the inner-cognizance of pertinence, proving and perveying. It is our personal principle of idea, instance and impetus. That it is our essence and engaging enterprise to be unconscious in depth, division and deeming-before, during and after-present awareness. That we are a being of transactual. That we-prove, price and pivot-like, living and logment.
A lady-recognizing a person was making Meth because she came to the deduction and induction... A police-cruiser drove by. She had dreams, about drugs as an engineer. That theme were movies dramatizing the reality if drugs and criminals. She didn't know the man. But it frightened her to no-ending. She slept a quiet agitated-slumber. Elder-women attain natural-anxious and unwhelmingly, disturbed by just a thought. So the dealer-made friends with her, out-of the-blue; she'd had dream of total a destruction-by defacto and de salvo... But he was nice she couldn't the sure. He bought her champagne and lobster-from an reputable-restaurant where the owner-had certain-dreams. The owner just noticed, but took slight ineffectual-glances with momentary conceptions; then went on believing he had a good tourer of a customer's patronage, by thinking it was just an enjoyable-festivity.
The sky and clouds, were set up in the Seas of the strata. 100,000-feet of as an inner sub-orbital. Gravity, forces-transverged, revolving, extenuating in the mind, body, and place; time, trials and transiences. Things were in their dark-cycle. And people in conducing, vying and complexity the eddied, diversity and devising-questions and counterset. That it was the offset monopoly by all manner and means. That scale, score and scenarios; factors, forging and paramore. That thought, theme and transactional-perform and proving and propagation. Bestowal, belief and bracing people, terms and tenses-were a revision and reverancy. That as we are by pretext, principle and prevalence-of life, times and terms.
She slept well knowing someone was a threat but he knew by alternative, he was a scoundrel and within days' dreams made for descension, deferring and irredeeming de-evocation... He knew he could bestowed. ...That kindness and depose, demoted, demised and ultimated-delusion. She-awoke after her night's sleep by lights flashing. He turned himself in with-out normal-life was as in Mexico-ride, was an everyday-nightmare. That one's portrayal was allied by obvious true-accounting and acceptance. The police rode off and she was resolved, now even with the now true-knowledge and affirm, the world-shown as dependable. He was in his jail-cell, sleeping the whole thing-off. Of wonder, unsubstantial alter-reality... -...The winds slew-through the night, the releasee leaving the jail with him, being implaced; he had been apprehended as well, but with a sense of dignity. He was the elder lady's stepson. He knew his aunt but he understood the sleep, he felt was just momentary-lapses in context and accord.
That of unofficial, absolving; and then as interstitial-aversion. But it is in a world-itinerary and attaining. People ran their lives with as sleep and integration of of vivid and installing; by presonerated each beingg an in-active accomodation... That the brain has each-level of provision, vocal and priority; that protectored and pre-occupated... That we are arrived, arranged and arise to it's as the people reach the precis and a prospect, and as an exponence by promise as a-prime and compunction.
Deliberation, deriving and delineation are all in the “saga” of everyday-life. That understanding, joy, sorrow and fear are adjoined in the void of unconscious perfusion. That people, place and time were the forged, facilitation and faculties-of the living propensity. Helen, was a primary school teacher in her 6th year as a tenure-instructor. She sleeped: school. She'd had dreams of it went-on vacation thinking about it living, her life around it. She was a pseudo-morphologer. That auspicious speculation and specifics were through the instance and autology of her career. And she awoke from a dream transitioning by cause could and calling. That people, property and pretext perverts-proactive and comprehensive-validity devising and impetus.
It's our main-prime mover, which being-in as our mind. Counting and categoricalizing-all manner of things. The world is always to be offset-by instance and idea. That in a theorem we perceive, preset and resolve commission, commitment and commendment. That we are continuously, registered-relegated and reailzed-in the smartest, accountable and according “brain”-being. But it is in the dreaming realm, regime and resiliently, resimulated-by actions, intents and ideas. If we are objective, subjective, substantive and supposing by identity, ideal and instrumentation. The ways and wax-sustained and supported-by intent instance and innate-integration, it's the travel fluency do we accord. Sara was a regular sleeping after-work, on weekends and on holidays; that sleep was her utter-world.
No body knew, what she dreamed... ..She never-talked about them... But for the unconsciousness, was “symbolic” of her limited-reality. In truth, a denied-reality. That slumber, was by the spectacle of in real-imagery. It was a world as hallucinations, jokings and demurred, de-expectations. She-slept.
In some ways, she wanted-”spectacle” of realism... ...It was a “contemplative”, art-form. That like a-”living” and a logment; that-was through theme and theory... That idle-time, ever being in-sleep; the world was a turn-over of simple-submissives... She-was in a world of desistences, and defiances; of the basic ill-rewarded life. That dreams, were each a far-away life, and living. Her-son Dandler, was a unsightly, child. He knew his-mother left him-alone, carelessly... Schedules and schemes of precepts and apprisings, of loneliness-disregarded and deposed were-in a way his-fight to use-this, as a way of responding to her/his-devoiding. Eventually, he'd followed-suit. A resignation, proving-deliberatively denial...
He grew-up denying others' “reality”. That as one sleeps, as a way-out from taking-on life and living. His-sleep conjoined his-mothers, like a “baby-duck”. She-never realized the fall, was in a-child... Peter, was a young student; which enjoyed his-sleep. Every since leaving-for college. After getting-drunk with other students, he found alcohol induced a sleep like no-other... But he was not a big-sleeper, instead as a withdrawn-euphoria, and exotic, sleep-induction. Time, seemed-to easily slip-away. There the unconscious became unhinged... He-knew of that in-friends, which would wake-up not knowing where they-were. Dawn and night, were a more active-passing... After the 3rd year, he was a senior; and nights, were defined-by exact, strenuous-dutiful; acumen-of intellectual-conferring... That he had no times of as superstition, supposing or supplanting.
A teacher, who taught-him was a very-competent professor, she met a lot of her class and Peter was one of them. Thoughts by her, whisped-away as she talked before the whole-class; they were-in an engaged-preset. Their heads knew attentively, as a role, control and aspect. Determined and detected-her, then absorbent-instruction. Sleep is the sincerest pure-certainty of leaving the world and escaping, re-patriating mind to mental; thought to themes, terms to tenets of this-life...
...The night police-clerk worked till 6 am. That as especial-specifics, and espousings. He liked night-life. The quiet, was docile and noval... It was the element-in as a regular-elegy. The arresting-orchestration were exact, instant and in interpretation. He was the fore-goers of terms, tenets and timings. It might have seemed “simple”, but intake was crucial. He had to be on-the-ball. As each assailant was held and branded, as an criminal, and crime-actor... They were poised, portrayed and exonerated by premise, price and pertinence. He-looked at and saw many sorrowful-faces, fears and disfortunes... Venture and value, were deposed-by idea and evident. Tom, George and Joseph-were seperate-jailers and charges. He-looked at each-one... By dawn it was nearly, off-time. He'd go home, kiss his wife, pat his dog, eat breakfast; watch the news, and by 10 am he'd be sound-asleep. ...As the skies brighten, he'd be in the grand-out at unconscious-precis and pivotal. He dreamed of being in space, as a processor-taking in space-creatures. The weird and bizarre, without notice...
An accused-assailant he met that night was released with a-bond. He'd dreamed also, on the precipice of “jail”, arrested and settled-in with a jailer-observation. He'd been drunk, like usual. He was an alcoholic, with dreams; being zonked-out. He was in an intoxicated-slumber. All he remembered was a can of beer, and it being-night. But even then he-dreamed of his grown-daughter, as a child; in a swing-in the backyard. When things were simple... Time-flew by, then and now.
Thinking had a unique, profound and possessive-way of expression, expounding and perversity; ways of being-in dreams... It's a challenge-to mental-capacity's contemplations. -Brad, was an experienced, HQ CFO for several-years... He-used his thinking to pit, process and progress-business addendums... He loved his-job. But outside of work there was little he wanted to do. He had a wife and two-chidren who seemed always to be pre-occupied. So he spent time watching murder shows... He wasn't a big-fan but what else was there to do. So in his lone seating before the TV he slept. Always ready to work, he gave himself homework... Then when the family were home, they'd eat... He slept and dreamed of a vacation to Miami, Italy, France and England which were neither-here nor there.
He'd passed a worker at the coffee-house, on the way to work. She was a multi-job worker, trained to move-up in the world. She-looked after her-dad and mom. She dreamed of being “rich”. Where concentrated until 8 pm-on her last day-job. Arriving home, she saw a flock-of Geese-flying in the night-skies. The night was a restful alter-universe. She was dreaming, she was floating-somehow; that she rode upon a dragon, across the high-skies within the moonlight. Then of being in Italy-somehow on a gandela, which she'd never-done. Then at an office-meeting...
He was the officer on traffic-duty. He had to stay-on site until 4 pm. He was once an overnight-man. He knew the in-take man. They'd converse through the night. He remembered as a dream thought that he did certain-things. And within the night-seas of the mind, then rolled in as dreams and rushed-out in awash and wit. He had dreams of then both in his-job influence. Of winds-blew in and out like the night-sky.