Welcome to the Hotel California
You know how every once in a while there's a day in which a series of connected events sticks out like a pattern, or a puzzle, but offers no means to interpret or solve said puzzle? Well, maybe that's a bad way of putting it...let me try again.
Every once in a while the universe seems want something from me, maybe? Or it tries to show me some pattern in the hopes that I'll get some message from it? Or maybe, it's just random? Deepak Chopra wouldn't say so. He'd say if the universe is showing you coincidences then you should follow the path to see where it leads. That's fine and good for Chopra, because he has bank from those shit new-agey books my ex-boyfriend kept forcing me to read...blargh! Oh, none of this makes sense. And that's the problem. Maybe I'm speaking too much in generalities, so...take three?
Take Three:
Last night I had fever dreams, egged on by some benedryl. In fact, as I was falling asleep I believe I told Roy something ridiculous, which I can only half recall. Something about being palm shells and diadems? I do remember saying I was as pretty as a shipwreck, and then demanding confirmation of that statement. "I am, tell me I am, do it!"
It was that kind of night, where the filter between brain and mouth breaks, so every thought just goes blahblahblah into the air like it meant something. My brain is a messy place, where I am, I suppose, as pretty as a shipwreck. And where Roy is some sort of fireworks display. I like that. I also asked him to run away with me. That we could follow old route 66 as far as we could. In fact, we had a huge conversation about it. And I said something about standing on the corner in Winslow, Arizona. Then one of us said something about "Hotel California."
My dreams were a bit more vivid than usual, as is always the case with fevers. I dreamed about a hotel at the end of a long straight road in the desert with a gorgeous big swimming pool. The moon was Joe big ("Dear God, whose name I do not know -thank you for my life. I forgot how big... thank you. Thank you for my life."). And the water was cold and lit turquoise. Beautiful. And someone said, "welcome home." Then I woke up to the craziest storm ever and apparently wandered around the house some...it's what I was told. I blamed Roy in the morning for making it rain so hard and ruining my dream.
This morning I read a story entitled "Hotel California" about a hotel in the middle of the desert, and a gorgeous pool, and (come on, you can guess) boys making out. And I thought of my dream and sighed a big sigh.
Then I ate a hotdog for lunch, and flipped through a book of poetry on pop culture. I flipped to two poems about "Hotel California." And I thought...that's weird.
I had a meeting at school with a student, and afterwards ran to the Pharmacy for some cough syrup (which is now making the world all smooth and slo-mo in a deliciously sleepy way). On the way there "Hotel California" came on "Augusta's ONLY classic rock station, THE EAGLE!" And I thought...that's weird.
But here's the weirdest. As I was climbing into the jeep, cough syrup in hand, the radio started playing some shit Journey song, so I changed it over to WBBQ (The Barbeque...yeah, I know), just in time to catch the first notes of "Hotel California." And I thought...Jesus Christ, I'm possessed! A classic rock song has taken over my brain.
So, I recited the Lord's Prayer in Latin, and when that didn't make me start twitching. I got a little more concerned. 6 instances and a dream about the same song in less than 24 hours. Most of them the result of nothing but random happenstance. Is the universe trying to tell me something? And is it something to do with the lyrics (which are half-stupid) or the idea?
As soon as I get out of this cough-syrup fog, I will crack the "Hotel California" code. Maybe it will lead me to Tom Hanks? (Since he has been referenced twice in this post...spooky!)
Every once in a while the universe seems want something from me, maybe? Or it tries to show me some pattern in the hopes that I'll get some message from it? Or maybe, it's just random? Deepak Chopra wouldn't say so. He'd say if the universe is showing you coincidences then you should follow the path to see where it leads. That's fine and good for Chopra, because he has bank from those shit new-agey books my ex-boyfriend kept forcing me to read...blargh! Oh, none of this makes sense. And that's the problem. Maybe I'm speaking too much in generalities, so...take three?
Take Three:
Last night I had fever dreams, egged on by some benedryl. In fact, as I was falling asleep I believe I told Roy something ridiculous, which I can only half recall. Something about being palm shells and diadems? I do remember saying I was as pretty as a shipwreck, and then demanding confirmation of that statement. "I am, tell me I am, do it!"
It was that kind of night, where the filter between brain and mouth breaks, so every thought just goes blahblahblah into the air like it meant something. My brain is a messy place, where I am, I suppose, as pretty as a shipwreck. And where Roy is some sort of fireworks display. I like that. I also asked him to run away with me. That we could follow old route 66 as far as we could. In fact, we had a huge conversation about it. And I said something about standing on the corner in Winslow, Arizona. Then one of us said something about "Hotel California."
My dreams were a bit more vivid than usual, as is always the case with fevers. I dreamed about a hotel at the end of a long straight road in the desert with a gorgeous big swimming pool. The moon was Joe big ("Dear God, whose name I do not know -thank you for my life. I forgot how big... thank you. Thank you for my life."). And the water was cold and lit turquoise. Beautiful. And someone said, "welcome home." Then I woke up to the craziest storm ever and apparently wandered around the house some...it's what I was told. I blamed Roy in the morning for making it rain so hard and ruining my dream.
This morning I read a story entitled "Hotel California" about a hotel in the middle of the desert, and a gorgeous pool, and (come on, you can guess) boys making out. And I thought of my dream and sighed a big sigh.
Then I ate a hotdog for lunch, and flipped through a book of poetry on pop culture. I flipped to two poems about "Hotel California." And I thought...that's weird.
I had a meeting at school with a student, and afterwards ran to the Pharmacy for some cough syrup (which is now making the world all smooth and slo-mo in a deliciously sleepy way). On the way there "Hotel California" came on "Augusta's ONLY classic rock station, THE EAGLE!" And I thought...that's weird.
But here's the weirdest. As I was climbing into the jeep, cough syrup in hand, the radio started playing some shit Journey song, so I changed it over to WBBQ (The Barbeque...yeah, I know), just in time to catch the first notes of "Hotel California." And I thought...Jesus Christ, I'm possessed! A classic rock song has taken over my brain.
So, I recited the Lord's Prayer in Latin, and when that didn't make me start twitching. I got a little more concerned. 6 instances and a dream about the same song in less than 24 hours. Most of them the result of nothing but random happenstance. Is the universe trying to tell me something? And is it something to do with the lyrics (which are half-stupid) or the idea?
As soon as I get out of this cough-syrup fog, I will crack the "Hotel California" code. Maybe it will lead me to Tom Hanks? (Since he has been referenced twice in this post...spooky!)