(no subject)
what's up with all the weird nonsensical dreams lately?
i was a runaway and i was being chased (sounds really familiar, no?) and i went into this 32 story building to the top floor and i was recruited into being a worker in the food industry by some fat lady who thought i was a new girl. the cooks there were well-paid and they served up-scale people in a fancy restaurant. then i learned that they made every kind of meat-- fish, chicken, beef, steak, you name it-- out of human brains. when i found that out some asian man came into the kitchen and was smiling. and i ran out and onto the street, looking for my dad. then i found him and we went to a park that i've never been to before.
went to the compass center this morning. after we served people, we went into the church office and listened to a 53-year old (though he looked 40) black man's life story-- which was really actually fascinating. he grew up in Watts, CA in the fifties and sixties (very violent place back then--especially for ...well, everyone); he had 14 other siblings (he was the fifth down the line) and his dad was arrested twice, killed two people, and was a hussler (whatever that means). the man's name was Marvin. Marvin said that some days there would be no food in the house and they'd be searching through all the cupboards looking for crumbs and his mom would just rock in a chair a knit and sing and tell them to pray; God would find a way-- He always does-- and sure enough, a day or so later someone would come to the door with a plate full of food for them. and some days his mom would make pies and cakes and fish and chicken and everything and then when dinner rolled around there'd be nothing. the kids didn't find out until after her death in 1988 that she was making the food and giving it to other people. Marvin joined the Black Panthers-- a famous gang back in the time. then some time after that (i kind of came in the office in the middle of his story) he became a crab fisherman; his life was on the sea. he loved it, even though it was tough-- dangerous; he saw two of his best friends pass away-- the went overboard. and then something happened to his spinal cord or something and he had to have extensive surgery. he can't lift any heavy weights even now; he'll get paralyzed if he does. then his dad, who ended up being blind, got lung cancer. so he had to go fly over to his hospital to pray off and on between siblings. his dad went in for an MRI after all that praying, and the cancer was just gone-- also, one of his sisters had cancer too and one day she just went into the doctors and it was just... gone. the doc said "that just doesn't happen with cancer..." Marvin is a chef. he moved up here from Las Vegas (he referred to it as 'home') because the doctors were so good. he said he just couldn't understand the kids he read about who'd jump off buildings and shoot themselves-- he said "all you gotta do is focus and everything will work out-- things happen in life and you just gotta focus." he'd told his grandfather or uncle or something that he wanted to go to Africa when he grew up. (he was a kid when he said it.) the relative said he'd never get there. but he did. he went to kenya and zimbabwe and hell knows where else. good for him.
anyway. that was inspiring. teehee. okay now my frozen fingers are also stiff and breaking or something so...
i was a runaway and i was being chased (sounds really familiar, no?) and i went into this 32 story building to the top floor and i was recruited into being a worker in the food industry by some fat lady who thought i was a new girl. the cooks there were well-paid and they served up-scale people in a fancy restaurant. then i learned that they made every kind of meat-- fish, chicken, beef, steak, you name it-- out of human brains. when i found that out some asian man came into the kitchen and was smiling. and i ran out and onto the street, looking for my dad. then i found him and we went to a park that i've never been to before.
went to the compass center this morning. after we served people, we went into the church office and listened to a 53-year old (though he looked 40) black man's life story-- which was really actually fascinating. he grew up in Watts, CA in the fifties and sixties (very violent place back then--especially for ...well, everyone); he had 14 other siblings (he was the fifth down the line) and his dad was arrested twice, killed two people, and was a hussler (whatever that means). the man's name was Marvin. Marvin said that some days there would be no food in the house and they'd be searching through all the cupboards looking for crumbs and his mom would just rock in a chair a knit and sing and tell them to pray; God would find a way-- He always does-- and sure enough, a day or so later someone would come to the door with a plate full of food for them. and some days his mom would make pies and cakes and fish and chicken and everything and then when dinner rolled around there'd be nothing. the kids didn't find out until after her death in 1988 that she was making the food and giving it to other people. Marvin joined the Black Panthers-- a famous gang back in the time. then some time after that (i kind of came in the office in the middle of his story) he became a crab fisherman; his life was on the sea. he loved it, even though it was tough-- dangerous; he saw two of his best friends pass away-- the went overboard. and then something happened to his spinal cord or something and he had to have extensive surgery. he can't lift any heavy weights even now; he'll get paralyzed if he does. then his dad, who ended up being blind, got lung cancer. so he had to go fly over to his hospital to pray off and on between siblings. his dad went in for an MRI after all that praying, and the cancer was just gone-- also, one of his sisters had cancer too and one day she just went into the doctors and it was just... gone. the doc said "that just doesn't happen with cancer..." Marvin is a chef. he moved up here from Las Vegas (he referred to it as 'home') because the doctors were so good. he said he just couldn't understand the kids he read about who'd jump off buildings and shoot themselves-- he said "all you gotta do is focus and everything will work out-- things happen in life and you just gotta focus." he'd told his grandfather or uncle or something that he wanted to go to Africa when he grew up. (he was a kid when he said it.) the relative said he'd never get there. but he did. he went to kenya and zimbabwe and hell knows where else. good for him.
anyway. that was inspiring. teehee. okay now my frozen fingers are also stiff and breaking or something so...