OF S** and the Lakeshore Party
(Low, slight fever, headache, cough. Frequent naps, bizarre dreams)
That I'm going to with S** to a party, customers from the restaurant whom I don't know. Cutting up streets, nighttime, through yards, it would appear we're in Edmonton, near the University. A big house, the party's in the basement.
And we go downstairs and everyone is gathered in a bedroom on a bed watching TV. I don't know anyone, but they all seem familiar.
The light, basement light, brightly lit in the halls, in the bedrooms, and I'm looking for S**, only I can't seem to find her, this basement is huge, made up of bedrooms, walking from bedroom to bedroom, excusing myself, going into the hall and looking for her again...
I think I spot her, then I recognize it's not her, it's a customer from the restaurant, an older, hippy lady, only now she's much younger...
I find her, and we're off, looking for a bedroom together....
S**, she looks the same as she did when I first met her, lithe, taut, she's arching her neck while I'm kissing her, I'm pulling off her tights...
Somebody walks past, older fellow, says he wouldn't mind giving me a hand with that, I look at him - he excuses himself, S** and I find a bed behind a transparent gauze curtain, we're continuing to make out, I'm pushing her into the bathroom so we can't be seen, she's in bliss and I can feel her clenching my fingers, she's dry, pulling them inside her....
***
(Wake up. Weird ass dream. I've not thought of S** for almost 30 years, sex dreams, rarely, why her, and odd that I should have such a detailed dream, and the tactile experience is unusual, the places, never what your recognize...)
***
Again, I'm in Edmonton not Edmonton, a sunny fall day. I've somehow worked myself into a store on the West side of town, it's a market styled shop, filled with 3rd world bric-a-brac, there's a young East Indian kid that's shown me in, I'm looking, they have watches, cheap, gold plated, but curiosities, one that has an I-Ching function, another with peculiarities to the calendar, I'm intrigued only they're all obviously cheaply made, China....
The kid's father comes out to talk to me, an older gentleman, as well East Indian, he introduces himself - "Pishna"?? - he recognizes me, knows me from someplace, wait, I'm "The Waiter" and he's now trying to give me his phone number, we should be friends, and I can see out the window of his shop, Edmonton, now, over autumn fields, I thought I was in town but I'm not anymore, this shop is somewhere on the outskirts...
***
(again, a discombobulating dream, neither bad nor good, just 'bleah' and defying interpretation...)
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- Category: Dreams
Dark Days and Lowering Clouds
The past week, two even, low and lowering clouds, rain and more rain, and now, with daylight savings time, 8 hours (roughly) of daylight obscured by fog & rain, the tones of grey diminishing and then advancing throughout the day, 8 AM until 4 PM.
And then it's dark.
All this made worse by the fact that I have a flu, or the Covid, I'm not sure which, or if it matters, a low level headache, cold, from time to time coughing up white frogs and spawn that stick in the sink...
Going to swill them down with boiling water and they cook up like eggs, whites fluttering from around and under the drain.
Try and sleep, to no avail, try and get up, to as well no avail, read books, drink, coffee, tea, soda, whatever...
Cook, food, don't forget to eat, the same pasta with sausage day after day, breakfast a hard-boiled egg, some cheese & cranberry, yogurt and blueberries, some seeds, sunflower, pumpkin, flax, days pass and the flu/Covid hangs in there, not so sick that I want to be inside all day, not so nice out that I want to be outside all day, and nowhere's social can you be in the land of the un-vaxxed unless you'd inspire suspicion and paranoia...
Anyways, it must be reaching the end of it's run, almost 2 weeks in, a slow slide in, and gradual climb out, rubbing tiger balm on my chest, lying on my industrial back massager, gonna shake the phlegm out of my lungs...
I'm in need of some joy, and if I can recover enough there's an event next weekend...
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- Category: Blog
Willard and his Bowling Trophies - Richard Brautigan
A mercifully short (perhaps an hour all in) book, about a group of murderous brothers bent on recovering their stolen bowling trophies.
Humorous, lyrical, after "The Fiery Angel" all I could perhaps stand.
On that note, my review for that is pending, but 5 stars surely...
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- Category: Books
Always on...
Now I'd heard this, that you should safely presume your phone is always listening to you.
And I'd had some evidence, as for example a few weeks ago I was humming/singing "Pretty Women..." from Sweeny Todd, and then - to my surprise, it turned up on my YouTube recommendations.
To be sure, I checked my history, no evidence that I'd listened to it for a very long time. And you could say "Coincidence" but I am skeptical, more that just as the internet absorbs local cues and surfing habits to tailor your content, but spies upon you by listening as well...
I wonder what keywords I'd need to be speaking out loud to bring the FBI to my door?
Which is kind of funny, because I went to use the microphone on my phone a week or so ago and to do so I had to enable all sorts of permissions that by default are turned off.
I think we're long past the point where this is paranoia, this is simply reality. 1984.
And, on a more humorous note, all that time looking at inane Facebook videos has resulted in me getting ads promising to treat my adult ADHD...
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- Category: Ideas & Questions
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