21 March 2010

i keep making it into monday in my head

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A very painfully-close to dead arm woke me up at six ayem and I got virtuous and bumped my ass out of bed. I've done my laundry and cleaned my bathroom and all kinds of perky things, madly chugging depresso to make my body forget it didn't get enough sleep. It's been Monday in my head at least five times already, and I am sick of having to amend myself every few minutes on this score. Plus, notwithstanding the depresso, I'm ready to drop. A nap is going to take me....

Besides, I probably don't want to be awake for the vote anyway. Bad enough I've run across a bunch of people I used to respect waxing all partisanly jubilant about it today, so, really, I should just sleep.

3pm: I decided to play as nap background the second half of the Money Masters videos I'd downloaded last night from BB2's before I remembered I'd seen it a few times already. So in my dream there were a few of us going around to talk with people about this stuff... spontaneously contemporaneously. People had just gotten up and started going around to tell people about this stuff. I was 86 for the first part of my dream and I kept trying to add stuff to what the guy next to me on the bench was saying, but he just kept on and on and on, and I finally got pissed off because he wouldn't let me even interject anything, hollered about him being a jesus-christ-on-a-crutch goddam rotten interlocutor! Fucking narrator, not a conversationalist....

I'm just reporting, now, just reporting.

Then I was me and we had gone to another place to get away from that narrator guy, but then suddenly it's the gorgeous sort of indian-feeling man who's taken up the narration, talking about how he knows from firsthand experience, and this guy was not annoying me like the other one had been annoying 86. I wanted to listen, didn't need to add anything. He was tall and skinny, had a medium amount of gray in his hair, which was in a braid. We were going from place to place. One place was very fancy, but also the inside of the room we went into was more like a really chic set-up for the inside of an Airstream... shaped like that, with a very cool alcove where he'd gone to check it out, and a hoop swing hanging from a hook in the ceiling. I was swinging in it. I saw that I was going to disconnect the swing from the hook with my exuberance, and, yep, I did, but I didn't want to crash on the floor, so I stayed in midair. Then I decided to impress the indian and not only not hit the floor but skoogy my way back through the air to reättach the swing cable to the hook.

He was impressed until he could tell I wanted him to be. So then in the next room, looking like a wealthy teen's wreck of a bedroom, I just stripped and left him there while I went out and started climbing walls and up to rooftops... naked. Sometime and some rooftops later he came and said we had to go. I had a hell of a time getting my clothes untangled from the rich teen's pile of laundry....

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