What I Saw When I Opened My Eyes
Last night, I dreamed...
I was being hunted by the Terminator (old school, T-800, Arnie-style). I had to go into hiding. I stopped by my parents' house, where I apparently still had a bunch of my stuff. As fast as I could, I started throwing things into a backpack - things I would need while on the run. A couple changes of clothes: socks, underwear, shirts... but I got stuck. There were so many T-shirts... some of my favorites, some I hadn't worn in years, some I'd picked up at memorable occasions but hadn't worn yet... I knew I had to get out of there RIGHT NOW, what with the Terminator on my trail and all, and yet...
I spent what seemed like forever trying to pick which shirts to pack.
And then I woke up.
And in the few moments while still half-way asleep, I said to myself "Holy crap, the Terminator could show up any minute and I can't decide what fucking T-shirts I want to wear?"
And then I woke up some more.
The last seven months have been extraordinary. So much to talk about. So much to say. Maybe someday I'll say it, and if I do, I'd be honored if you'll listen. In the meantime, I'll leave you (and me) with some thoughts from what has become one of my favorite movies:
You are not your bank account
You are not the clothes you wear
You are not the contents of your wallet
You are not your bowel cancer
You are not your grande latte
You are not the car you drive
You are not your fucking khaki's
You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake
You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else
We are all part of the same compost heap
We are the all singing, all dancing, crap of the world
I was being hunted by the Terminator (old school, T-800, Arnie-style). I had to go into hiding. I stopped by my parents' house, where I apparently still had a bunch of my stuff. As fast as I could, I started throwing things into a backpack - things I would need while on the run. A couple changes of clothes: socks, underwear, shirts... but I got stuck. There were so many T-shirts... some of my favorites, some I hadn't worn in years, some I'd picked up at memorable occasions but hadn't worn yet... I knew I had to get out of there RIGHT NOW, what with the Terminator on my trail and all, and yet...
I spent what seemed like forever trying to pick which shirts to pack.
And then I woke up.
And in the few moments while still half-way asleep, I said to myself "Holy crap, the Terminator could show up any minute and I can't decide what fucking T-shirts I want to wear?"
And then I woke up some more.
The last seven months have been extraordinary. So much to talk about. So much to say. Maybe someday I'll say it, and if I do, I'd be honored if you'll listen. In the meantime, I'll leave you (and me) with some thoughts from what has become one of my favorite movies:
You are not your bank account
You are not the clothes you wear
You are not the contents of your wallet
You are not your bowel cancer
You are not your grande latte
You are not the car you drive
You are not your fucking khaki's
You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake
You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else
We are all part of the same compost heap
We are the all singing, all dancing, crap of the world