This post suddenly becomes something...!
i want it to rain into the night..
I haven;t done anything today. Just kept falling asleep. I apparently cannot eat Cheerios w/ blueberries and not fall asleep. Before that. I nibbled on that corned beef, thinking the high degree of st fat might be what my muscles need - considering the detox for lipids, plus my body changes. We shall see. Or shall we. Maybe it will make my eyes worse, or better.
I had a friend in college and beyond who was king of the artists and movie-makers, in his own little realm. I was part of that alt bunch. And, several cute girls. I never got around to it, but they would model nude for cash. And I had a part in one of this guy's movies, which the audience really liked. Even though he didn't. Because he wasn't really an artist, he was a accountant, like his father, which he dreaded.
But, we would go skinny dipping, and drink and do drugs. I had met him as we had both worked at the restauirant - so all this was a kind of spin off friendship pod. I was sure not to sleep with any of the girls in this pod because I guess I had gained a reputation with the larger group of friends at the restaurant. All of whom were blondes. And so people went around saying I only liked blondes, lol.
This friend of mine and I became roommates, at one point. He was anal and meticulous, but we lived with a loosy goosy base player I didn't really like. This is when I started getting tired, and I met the girl who destroyed my life, in conjunction w/ CFS, and so on. Last I saw of this artist cat, he was flipping downtown houses, on his way to becoming a boring business man. My hopes for him were dashed. But I don't think he was good at making movies.
Haven't thought of him in a long time, but happened to dream of him now. We were sitting in desks, studying, at the large entrance of a college building, probably library. We would call out little conversations with one or two females working there. I told this guy that I had made some sandwiches the night before, and deliberately put a cockroach n one of them, which I then ate. Seemed to make sense at the time. I made sandwiches for a living, once.
Then somebody said, "Let's go downstairs." So, we got into an elevator, and I had my fingers up to my closed eyes, saying, "I'm blind," but some one just said, "You just have to take your fingers off your eyes." The elevator vehicle started swinging down around these little monumental graveyard villages, or something. All white. Great architecture. like Madison, etc. And I asked, "Where are we going - I have been invited, right?" And a girl friend of said guy said was some town in Indiana that her parents moved to.
"Oh, OK. Because, if I wasn't invited, I might as well get out of this dream now."
When I did wake up, it was Fiona Apple, followed by Yoko Ono, making their weird noises.
But, why did I dream of this guy? Did he die? I thought, considering the bioweapons, possible half the people I have ever known might have died by now. Or, was this guy just also thinking about me? We will only know when we meet up in accountant heaven. I wish I had gotten the chance to date his cute, smart and artsy sister, with the family chin, but she lived in Tucson, which is not in Indiana. One thing I can tell you, everyone I have ever known is NOT here in this town. The person I feel most familiar with is the anonymous guy in the train.
And the rain.
I haven;t done anything today. Just kept falling asleep. I apparently cannot eat Cheerios w/ blueberries and not fall asleep. Before that. I nibbled on that corned beef, thinking the high degree of st fat might be what my muscles need - considering the detox for lipids, plus my body changes. We shall see. Or shall we. Maybe it will make my eyes worse, or better.
I had a friend in college and beyond who was king of the artists and movie-makers, in his own little realm. I was part of that alt bunch. And, several cute girls. I never got around to it, but they would model nude for cash. And I had a part in one of this guy's movies, which the audience really liked. Even though he didn't. Because he wasn't really an artist, he was a accountant, like his father, which he dreaded.
But, we would go skinny dipping, and drink and do drugs. I had met him as we had both worked at the restauirant - so all this was a kind of spin off friendship pod. I was sure not to sleep with any of the girls in this pod because I guess I had gained a reputation with the larger group of friends at the restaurant. All of whom were blondes. And so people went around saying I only liked blondes, lol.
This friend of mine and I became roommates, at one point. He was anal and meticulous, but we lived with a loosy goosy base player I didn't really like. This is when I started getting tired, and I met the girl who destroyed my life, in conjunction w/ CFS, and so on. Last I saw of this artist cat, he was flipping downtown houses, on his way to becoming a boring business man. My hopes for him were dashed. But I don't think he was good at making movies.
Haven't thought of him in a long time, but happened to dream of him now. We were sitting in desks, studying, at the large entrance of a college building, probably library. We would call out little conversations with one or two females working there. I told this guy that I had made some sandwiches the night before, and deliberately put a cockroach n one of them, which I then ate. Seemed to make sense at the time. I made sandwiches for a living, once.
Then somebody said, "Let's go downstairs." So, we got into an elevator, and I had my fingers up to my closed eyes, saying, "I'm blind," but some one just said, "You just have to take your fingers off your eyes." The elevator vehicle started swinging down around these little monumental graveyard villages, or something. All white. Great architecture. like Madison, etc. And I asked, "Where are we going - I have been invited, right?" And a girl friend of said guy said was some town in Indiana that her parents moved to.
"Oh, OK. Because, if I wasn't invited, I might as well get out of this dream now."
When I did wake up, it was Fiona Apple, followed by Yoko Ono, making their weird noises.
But, why did I dream of this guy? Did he die? I thought, considering the bioweapons, possible half the people I have ever known might have died by now. Or, was this guy just also thinking about me? We will only know when we meet up in accountant heaven. I wish I had gotten the chance to date his cute, smart and artsy sister, with the family chin, but she lived in Tucson, which is not in Indiana. One thing I can tell you, everyone I have ever known is NOT here in this town. The person I feel most familiar with is the anonymous guy in the train.
And the rain.