03-04-2012, 12:01 AM
I have a restful nights sleep. Its not
entirely true to say it was dreamless. I dream of little mouse allot.
How I love him, even if he is just me or im just him? Lol. He is
happy, in energy. And his story is not done, just because he died
outside his narrative home. He thinks he dies allot its OK not to be
sad. There is always further adventures. So God speed, little HUGE
man, and thank you. So I wake, I get the lame continental
breakfast...a chewy bagel and some orange juice in a plastic cup.
Well is OK. Not dreaming to get fat hah. And I meet the rest of the
team/other dreamers in the lobby. I notice the person who had little
mouse in the pocket looks...troubled. But I don’t ask, im not sure
it was real like that. Maybe they had a dream in the dream of it?
Leave it be hehe. Let it be. I hum the song to myself quite a bit as
I chew that chewy bagel. We are going to the same college from the
last dream we came to new york. I could not in the dream or now
writing remember what I said it was called. It snot actually in new
york, we were taking a rental van. Somebody noted that the American
seat of the Dali llama is in that city too. Ill look it up when im
done. What it was called again. But since I was thinking dango I
should remember in the dream and didn’t, ill leave it as it was
haha.
We are going to stay at the
college. For the event. We go through a tunnel underneath he east
river, and I like looking at the lights and the bridge etc. And I
loose recall...it gets hazier and hazier like raven explained in the
going to the house, until there is just energy left without time. So
that’s that. I don’t remember being out there. But then it gets
clearer and clearer. We are at the university, and also in new york
somehow. Two places were joined where don’t need a van re arranged
for the last part. I...it is the last night of the trip, the night
before we all fly back, I have full recall again. Nobody can really
talk about what we just did, so much of our conversations revolved
around trying to remember. Where we were, what we say. Like a
puzzle,a game, we aren’t worried. Its fun.
We decide to go to little corner
restaurant, looks good. Italian seafood, southern Italy not northern
cuisine. I am so happy, after whatever just transpired, so at peace,
and just happy to be there with my friends. We talk about so many
things, long period of time. We are in no hurry for the food. I sip a
hard cider, its nice. I drift from conversation. I still have the
little mouse book. I am trying to read about the time that I cant
recall. The 2 days that are missing. I can read it fine. But as soon
as I do, I forget the next moment. I can read the whole section over
and over and know it, but I cant speak as I do, no way of copying it.
As soon as I stop reading its gone, like the people in the airport
that saw the hand of god plucking asterisks. But its OK. Reading it
feels good, warm, wonderful. Its still living in the book, even in
words form. Like little mouse. someone asks me what im reading,
and I show them the cover. They ask if it is a childrens book? I
chuckle until I have tears coming down my face, but not in a way that
makes them upset, makes them laugh too. I say yes, yes, definitely a
book written for children, and I sort of sweep my gaze around the
entire city so the meaning is clear and we both chuckle till we have
tears. I put the book back in my jacket. The food has come.
Ahh the food! I ordered tiny
filled pasta. But small, like hazelnuts. Im not sure what to expect.
It looks like a dish that can go very wrong very easy. Overcooked,
undercooked. The filling. But no, its sublime. In such small perfect
pastas, they managed to take a tiny jewel of fish, and infuse it,
like crystal in stone, in a small piece of the most sublime cheese,
infuse it with seafood flavor, that complimented the flavored pasta,
that was in a bowl, and seasoned with the most buttery, yet tangy
fish stock flavor sauce...yet so thin, like the sheen of dew on
grass. Sublime. The essence of sea food, and dairy, and a tangy
pasta, together, perfect flavor. Perfect conception to the dish.
Perfect for my hunger at the moment. Sublime, beyond sublime. A small
portion, savoring each one. I thought the dream airplane peanuts were
good...hah! Hah! Ill never taste such perfection waking. You know on
south park, the sign behind chef “school food is good food” Well
“dream food is god food” lol. If I could cook that, id go on
hells kitchen and yell, with full authority, at chef Ramsey that it
is HIS risotto that is ****! Lol. Sigh. I ate reheated lasagna for
dinner. Bah. Hehe. The rest of y’all someone got looked like
sunfish but lightly pan fried with some sort or aromatic, like
jasmine but red, spice sprinkle don it. Looked pretty good too.
Their perfect dish of the moment no doubt. My fork was tiny I ate one
piece at a time. We ate like that as long as we wanted too So
happy.
Finally, the meal was done. We
were relaxing now, sipping drinks, not talking. There was the
strangest man. He was a homeless man. He was walking around tables,
clowning each person, but was not removed. He was also ignored by the
other tables. Well we liked him...i liked him. I looked at him, and
from my memory, he became...the homeless guy from night court, that
the sleazy lawyer always had work for him doing weird jobs. He saw us
at the table and approached smiling. And pulled up a chair. But now,
something magic, without a big fuss, sorta organicly, he changed from
that character, to a perfect rendition of the judge from night court,
judge Stone...Harry. So we played along, like we were characters
from that TV show. Somebody got to be bull. I did not get to be bull.
Thats kinda sad in retrospect. Bull kicked ass. Lol. Judge hary stone
character was also a stand in For >, as usual I was having trouble
figuring exactly where I had seen him, like the just missed someone
thing. Hah but he was on the trip too. So the character was hamming
that aspect a bit as well. He was, as judge stone, talking about some
of his pranks and rulings, in a funny and relaxed way.
But then he stopped. And he
changed from both of those homeless men to another homeless form.
This one was ragged, and had bare feet. Not a happy magical homeless
man. His breath rattled in his lungs, and he looked tired. I have a
pang in my heart. A memory. Of my tonal life.
I am in third grade again. > My
father was taking me to MC donalds. He hardly ever did this maybe 13
times I can remember in childhood...so it was kinda special. My dads
answer to everything was to say we don’t have the money, and it was
true I guess, but it was a stock answer. So I was afraid to ask for
shoes that fit, and to go to the doctor, things like that. But this
day, he too me to MC donalds. There was a homeless man, by the street
with his sign for food. As often happens around those places sure.
Seen it before. But this time, as it happened, it seemd different. It
struck me. For some reason. I could not eat. I took my whole happy
meal uneaten and gave it to him i was ready to cry. It was strange.
Maybe he wanted money for whatever, you know hehe. But I
think...doing that...he cried. He just cried. And took it and sat
looking at it. He looked me in the eye. His eyes looked like mine
often do now, when I am sad. I was not sure then, or now, which of us
he cried for. I think both. See, this homeless man saw, in those
eyes. And we both cried again, for an instant. But then I laughed. In
my mind. Because now, id have to share that what has to sound sappy
and fake moment, like the kind of story people you should not trust
share to prove trick you into thinking you should. Now I too must be
lame? Thanks I laughed. Hah this homeless man laughed even
louder...this whole thing was the time of a contact of the eyes.
He changed form again, lotus,
floating, and rose...we...well we remembered who we went to see, haha
in the different forms. But only that much. Babaji. As he left I
reached out with one of my tendrils, energy, to ask if I could please
remember. Please. To write something. He laughed but in it was if you
wish but there was some...like asking for a heavier burden. Funny,
clear laughter tendril to tendril. And then he was gone. Well, hah
now we did not have to wonder about the trip, jut what happened. But
it was not important. So we walked back to our rooms, on this, the
last night. A crisp but not cold, evening. Sometimes I walked with
people, sometimes on my own, like across central park, then narrow
streets. Now some of the other students, they asked if I wanted to
smoke. I said I have a few cigarettes left real ones and my ecig. No
they meant like “little ganja smoke ally” lol. I was lol...well
nah im fine hehe. I had some cider I was good.
I found my way back to
dorms/hotel. I started smoking in a hall. Suddenly im worried. Im
inside. Cant smoke inside. Wanting to get out fast to smoke it not
waste it, but just room doors. Funny the things that bring me panic.
I see some people...nurses? I say please I forgot lit up I nee dot
put it out or go outside...im for the first time in dream panicking
funny like I said. Finally I see a medicated pad put out my cigarette
with that and crumple it throw it away. I mumble im sorry tot he
nurses. I walk away, and I hear them talking. How funny it is I worry
so much. How much I want to be clean of addiction, but don’t
realize some of it is rituals in magic not addiction. Another chimes
how her brother smoked Was an addiction etc. I calm down. This was
the closest I came to loosing lucidity. Well, **** last smoke till
next weekend (that’s my step down ATM, smoke on weekend, e cig on
weekdays lol...unless I really want to)
For the first time I feel lost.
In this dreaming. Forlorn. Separate. But down the hospital hall, come
s a parade. Of EMT s with all the gear, so vivid and real. The
ghostbusters? Lol from the statue. My friends that took the trip, now
dressed as surgeons. Some are pushing a burned man, a comatose man, a
zombie woman. What the heck lol. They aren’t real people, they are
like Halloween props. Hah the guy who was doing some bum bud now is a
raking surgeon. Come on they say, come on...join the parade! Last
night, join the parade, the trip. Here we go. Hah I find a spot. Sure
im not in costume, but I figure I will be soon enough if I don’t
worry about it. This is how the dreaming ends, im laughing, we are
singing the hospital song, some of us pushing effigies of our health
past or problems, like doctors, see, doctors doing that. Well its
funny, and happy, like a “food court musical” and thats how this
dream ended, and how I woke, laughing and singing the “here we go,
sorta slow, our problems in tow, but what the hell, here we go, hay
ho! Song. Yea, I dig it. Lol Fin.
entirely true to say it was dreamless. I dream of little mouse allot.
How I love him, even if he is just me or im just him? Lol. He is
happy, in energy. And his story is not done, just because he died
outside his narrative home. He thinks he dies allot its OK not to be
sad. There is always further adventures. So God speed, little HUGE
man, and thank you. So I wake, I get the lame continental
breakfast...a chewy bagel and some orange juice in a plastic cup.
Well is OK. Not dreaming to get fat hah. And I meet the rest of the
team/other dreamers in the lobby. I notice the person who had little
mouse in the pocket looks...troubled. But I don’t ask, im not sure
it was real like that. Maybe they had a dream in the dream of it?
Leave it be hehe. Let it be. I hum the song to myself quite a bit as
I chew that chewy bagel. We are going to the same college from the
last dream we came to new york. I could not in the dream or now
writing remember what I said it was called. It snot actually in new
york, we were taking a rental van. Somebody noted that the American
seat of the Dali llama is in that city too. Ill look it up when im
done. What it was called again. But since I was thinking dango I
should remember in the dream and didn’t, ill leave it as it was
haha.
We are going to stay at the
college. For the event. We go through a tunnel underneath he east
river, and I like looking at the lights and the bridge etc. And I
loose recall...it gets hazier and hazier like raven explained in the
going to the house, until there is just energy left without time. So
that’s that. I don’t remember being out there. But then it gets
clearer and clearer. We are at the university, and also in new york
somehow. Two places were joined where don’t need a van re arranged
for the last part. I...it is the last night of the trip, the night
before we all fly back, I have full recall again. Nobody can really
talk about what we just did, so much of our conversations revolved
around trying to remember. Where we were, what we say. Like a
puzzle,a game, we aren’t worried. Its fun.
We decide to go to little corner
restaurant, looks good. Italian seafood, southern Italy not northern
cuisine. I am so happy, after whatever just transpired, so at peace,
and just happy to be there with my friends. We talk about so many
things, long period of time. We are in no hurry for the food. I sip a
hard cider, its nice. I drift from conversation. I still have the
little mouse book. I am trying to read about the time that I cant
recall. The 2 days that are missing. I can read it fine. But as soon
as I do, I forget the next moment. I can read the whole section over
and over and know it, but I cant speak as I do, no way of copying it.
As soon as I stop reading its gone, like the people in the airport
that saw the hand of god plucking asterisks. But its OK. Reading it
feels good, warm, wonderful. Its still living in the book, even in
words form. Like little mouse. someone asks me what im reading,
and I show them the cover. They ask if it is a childrens book? I
chuckle until I have tears coming down my face, but not in a way that
makes them upset, makes them laugh too. I say yes, yes, definitely a
book written for children, and I sort of sweep my gaze around the
entire city so the meaning is clear and we both chuckle till we have
tears. I put the book back in my jacket. The food has come.
Ahh the food! I ordered tiny
filled pasta. But small, like hazelnuts. Im not sure what to expect.
It looks like a dish that can go very wrong very easy. Overcooked,
undercooked. The filling. But no, its sublime. In such small perfect
pastas, they managed to take a tiny jewel of fish, and infuse it,
like crystal in stone, in a small piece of the most sublime cheese,
infuse it with seafood flavor, that complimented the flavored pasta,
that was in a bowl, and seasoned with the most buttery, yet tangy
fish stock flavor sauce...yet so thin, like the sheen of dew on
grass. Sublime. The essence of sea food, and dairy, and a tangy
pasta, together, perfect flavor. Perfect conception to the dish.
Perfect for my hunger at the moment. Sublime, beyond sublime. A small
portion, savoring each one. I thought the dream airplane peanuts were
good...hah! Hah! Ill never taste such perfection waking. You know on
south park, the sign behind chef “school food is good food” Well
“dream food is god food” lol. If I could cook that, id go on
hells kitchen and yell, with full authority, at chef Ramsey that it
is HIS risotto that is ****! Lol. Sigh. I ate reheated lasagna for
dinner. Bah. Hehe. The rest of y’all someone got looked like
sunfish but lightly pan fried with some sort or aromatic, like
jasmine but red, spice sprinkle don it. Looked pretty good too.
Their perfect dish of the moment no doubt. My fork was tiny I ate one
piece at a time. We ate like that as long as we wanted too So
happy.
Finally, the meal was done. We
were relaxing now, sipping drinks, not talking. There was the
strangest man. He was a homeless man. He was walking around tables,
clowning each person, but was not removed. He was also ignored by the
other tables. Well we liked him...i liked him. I looked at him, and
from my memory, he became...the homeless guy from night court, that
the sleazy lawyer always had work for him doing weird jobs. He saw us
at the table and approached smiling. And pulled up a chair. But now,
something magic, without a big fuss, sorta organicly, he changed from
that character, to a perfect rendition of the judge from night court,
judge Stone...Harry. So we played along, like we were characters
from that TV show. Somebody got to be bull. I did not get to be bull.
Thats kinda sad in retrospect. Bull kicked ass. Lol. Judge hary stone
character was also a stand in For >, as usual I was having trouble
figuring exactly where I had seen him, like the just missed someone
thing. Hah but he was on the trip too. So the character was hamming
that aspect a bit as well. He was, as judge stone, talking about some
of his pranks and rulings, in a funny and relaxed way.
But then he stopped. And he
changed from both of those homeless men to another homeless form.
This one was ragged, and had bare feet. Not a happy magical homeless
man. His breath rattled in his lungs, and he looked tired. I have a
pang in my heart. A memory. Of my tonal life.
I am in third grade again. > My
father was taking me to MC donalds. He hardly ever did this maybe 13
times I can remember in childhood...so it was kinda special. My dads
answer to everything was to say we don’t have the money, and it was
true I guess, but it was a stock answer. So I was afraid to ask for
shoes that fit, and to go to the doctor, things like that. But this
day, he too me to MC donalds. There was a homeless man, by the street
with his sign for food. As often happens around those places sure.
Seen it before. But this time, as it happened, it seemd different. It
struck me. For some reason. I could not eat. I took my whole happy
meal uneaten and gave it to him i was ready to cry. It was strange.
Maybe he wanted money for whatever, you know hehe. But I
think...doing that...he cried. He just cried. And took it and sat
looking at it. He looked me in the eye. His eyes looked like mine
often do now, when I am sad. I was not sure then, or now, which of us
he cried for. I think both. See, this homeless man saw, in those
eyes. And we both cried again, for an instant. But then I laughed. In
my mind. Because now, id have to share that what has to sound sappy
and fake moment, like the kind of story people you should not trust
share to prove trick you into thinking you should. Now I too must be
lame? Thanks I laughed. Hah this homeless man laughed even
louder...this whole thing was the time of a contact of the eyes.
He changed form again, lotus,
floating, and rose...we...well we remembered who we went to see, haha
in the different forms. But only that much. Babaji. As he left I
reached out with one of my tendrils, energy, to ask if I could please
remember. Please. To write something. He laughed but in it was if you
wish but there was some...like asking for a heavier burden. Funny,
clear laughter tendril to tendril. And then he was gone. Well, hah
now we did not have to wonder about the trip, jut what happened. But
it was not important. So we walked back to our rooms, on this, the
last night. A crisp but not cold, evening. Sometimes I walked with
people, sometimes on my own, like across central park, then narrow
streets. Now some of the other students, they asked if I wanted to
smoke. I said I have a few cigarettes left real ones and my ecig. No
they meant like “little ganja smoke ally” lol. I was lol...well
nah im fine hehe. I had some cider I was good.
I found my way back to
dorms/hotel. I started smoking in a hall. Suddenly im worried. Im
inside. Cant smoke inside. Wanting to get out fast to smoke it not
waste it, but just room doors. Funny the things that bring me panic.
I see some people...nurses? I say please I forgot lit up I nee dot
put it out or go outside...im for the first time in dream panicking
funny like I said. Finally I see a medicated pad put out my cigarette
with that and crumple it throw it away. I mumble im sorry tot he
nurses. I walk away, and I hear them talking. How funny it is I worry
so much. How much I want to be clean of addiction, but don’t
realize some of it is rituals in magic not addiction. Another chimes
how her brother smoked Was an addiction etc. I calm down. This was
the closest I came to loosing lucidity. Well, **** last smoke till
next weekend (that’s my step down ATM, smoke on weekend, e cig on
weekdays lol...unless I really want to)
For the first time I feel lost.
In this dreaming. Forlorn. Separate. But down the hospital hall, come
s a parade. Of EMT s with all the gear, so vivid and real. The
ghostbusters? Lol from the statue. My friends that took the trip, now
dressed as surgeons. Some are pushing a burned man, a comatose man, a
zombie woman. What the heck lol. They aren’t real people, they are
like Halloween props. Hah the guy who was doing some bum bud now is a
raking surgeon. Come on they say, come on...join the parade! Last
night, join the parade, the trip. Here we go. Hah I find a spot. Sure
im not in costume, but I figure I will be soon enough if I don’t
worry about it. This is how the dreaming ends, im laughing, we are
singing the hospital song, some of us pushing effigies of our health
past or problems, like doctors, see, doctors doing that. Well its
funny, and happy, like a “food court musical” and thats how this
dream ended, and how I woke, laughing and singing the “here we go,
sorta slow, our problems in tow, but what the hell, here we go, hay
ho! Song. Yea, I dig it. Lol Fin.