I spent a fair amount of time a couple of years ago kind of obsessing about this singer. But like…obsessing! I became attached to EVERYTHING about him. In an existential way, I think I wanted to be him. Or at least be with him. But not even that, maybe something more…like ingest him, and have him become me. I do realize here that I'm sounding pretty absurd, but it's part of explaining the dreaming, and physical desire.
I knew at the time that my focus was something metaphysical. I was intrigued by it and tried to observe it objectively, at the same time indulging in it totally subjectively.
I loved the way he looked, and sang, and thought, and moved, and lord knows what else. I began to dream about him quite often. I was inspired, and the thought of him gave me a rush of energy so strong it was addictive.
In those dreams I would always become lucid, so I felt that they had meaning somehow. We would have these brief conversations where I would learn something profound about attachment, or things would just burst into passionate sex energy, and I began to think that the whole obsession was really just to teach me about non-attachment. I looked forward to sleeping, hoping that I might dream about him. I had developed a whole dream relationship with the poor boy, and the truth is that he was on the other side of the planet, absolutely not thinking about me. But here I was projecting, and sending my energy out to him, and somehow dragging his back to me, coating my entire being with it.
It occurred to me how strange that whole experience was. To be a public figure like that, having people know your image, but you not knowing them at all. Them only knowing the "you" that YOU developed to market to them. So full and so empty. Ohhhh so material and only seemingly meaningless. But still, imagine how much it affects the energy to have so many people paying attention. I imagined the Dalai Lama, and how people LOVE him, and how that affects his reality, and what about poor Michael Jackson! It's like putting the one ring on and having the eye of Sauron begin to stare.
On a subconscious level, having that kind of focus upon oneself must be such pressure, both positive and negative, even beyond those definitions of good or bad, just straight into the infinite. I was playing deeply and dangerously with my attention. It was a form of vampirism, and I was feeding it with images, music, and thoughts.
Then it stopped. I completely stopped dreaming about him. I even stopped listening to his music. I couldn't hang on even if I wanted to. It was as if he never mattered. I was just thinking about that now. How simple it is to care too much, and then flip the coin into not even being able to care if you wanted to. I'd almost feel sad about it, except that I don't honestly feel anything about it at all. Down the spiral…then back up again.