Tag Archives: dreams

Thinking…

virginia woolf is amazing i wouldn’t mind working at virginia woof close to my house would smell like dog maybe i should write more when i’m not disgruntled i’m disgruntled a lot, why do i buy all these books? should have bought the one of e.e.cummings last 73 poems, was it really his last 73 or did his widowed wife edit the bundle down? I am feeling on the brink of enlightenment haha yoga with the cat and mentally challenging the vampires of my emotional vulnerability who consume my natural naivete like cornbread at a cajun supper, as if pompousness is wit, and haughtiness is courage, I smell fear of the unfamiliar, as if threatened by change from comfortable ignorance, going to munch on chips and chocolate frozen yogurt, separately of course, maybe eggs, some protein, some sweet and savory, using the “power of my mind”, haha come on my mental midgets, please throw at me an original phrase, a quote from your own closet of dreams. tomorrow is another day in the retail puddle, a child today lingered in a puddle and nearly threw off his boots…I visited the art museum an exhibit called Disquieted, really is my camera phone going to destroy the paint? come on bored guards, share the visual inspiration…portrait sketches by Degas and artists for the past century and a half, an afternoon playing hookey, like j.d salinger hiding from class, from people, from life. I like the mystery in privacy, I am familiar with the loneliness. It’s solitude, to contemplate, to feel without interaction and reaction, the stage of panting puppets seeking validation…

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Morning note

I dreamt I was in this hotel with many elevators (inspiration: my work place) except this hotel was incredibly large and haunted (I have a thing for spirits and ghosts in my dreams), and it had an Olympic size pool in a secluded hidden area you could only find by one spiral ascending and descending, mini-white elevator (also have a thing for architectural enigmas, water, and secret hiding places). My predilection for bizarre architecture dreams leads me to think I should continue my schooling in architecture, even if according to every typical mom in the country it is no longer a top grossing income, and engineers are more loaded. Big fucking deal, it is that or starving artist, moms. So second part of dream, two people complained about me being stoned, including my hairdresser’s coworker, because my actual hairdresser (I mean in the dream) was extremely fat and wanted to charge thirty for a trim, and I thought, oh hell no, bye (maybe should hold off on pot as I find most chemicals except for coffee overbearing on my little system these days)…off to an expensive massage. But worth it. And I should shower first. Last night I ran in the rain than fell to sleep in a melatonin stupor. I have to admit the boy with dark locks was in the dream too. I fear he will never go away, but we know that’s not true, not nearly.

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