Because No One Actually Reads This

So of course the replacement drive so I can fix my computer & work on Silber stuff didn’t arrive yesterday so I couldn’t get that process started while I’m out all day on a drive job for my medical transporter gig.  & because I didn’t get the replacement drive I ended up totally caught up on my data processing job.  So I decided to bring some of my old notebooks with dream entries with me to type in while I’m sitting in the waiting room.  I’ve been threatening to start typing them in again for a while, so now seems as good a time as any…..

May 23, 2014
I’m working at the airport & because it’s designed poorly, I have to drive the luggage across twenty gates run by a different airline.  I run over a chock someone has left in the middle the tarmac & I think the carts are going to flip, but I hit the gas & the forward momentum keeps them from capsizing.  A supervisor from the both airline starts yelling at me to learn how to drive, but I just keep going trying to do my job.

I’m on a spirit quest & the road I’ve been following leads into the ocean.  I go on a nearby pier & a woman gives me a ship in a bottle with the masts down & tells me I’m not done yet.  She points down at the beach & there’s a man standing on the shore where the road turns into cobblestone before going into the sea.  I go down to the man clenching to my chest the bottle & a notebook documenting the journey.  The man tells me to follow the road.  He can tell I’m scared.  He takes my right hand, holding it with his left, which is somehow re-ssuring instead of creepy.  I walk into the ocean holding his hand.  When the water is up to my waist I notice he’s walking on the surface of the water.  I keep walking & he’s let go of my hand sometime after my head is already below the surface of the water.  The turbulence of the ocean knocks me off my feet & the waves cast me back on the shore.  But it’s not the same beach; I’m not even sure it’s the same planet.  I try to write everything down in the notebook still clenched to my chest, but it’s been destroyed by the water.

May 25, 2014
I’m watching Cheers & it’s an episode I’ve never seen before.  Frazier asks Sam to seduce Lilith to find out if she’s been faithful or not, but it creates an internal moral struggle of Sam’s ideas of friendship, infidelity, & the value of the entire life he’s lived.

May 31, 2014
My body’s in a room so large & dark that I can’t see the walls.  It’s on a gurney with dozens of wires hooked up to it.  I can’t tell if I’m sleeping or in a coma.  A technician comes to one of the machines & starts twisting knobs that alter my dreams, which fundamentally alters my reality, but I can’t get my consciousness back into my body to wake it up.  The dream alterations are pulling off everything that makes me me, one piece at a time.  It hurts & I already can’t remember why anyone would want to do this to me.

June 6, 2014
I’m riding in my car with Adrian Wilson (Maya Gallery) in Asheville talking about ideas to push his shop & Silber.  Both one time ideas to make it through the month & bigger ideas to survive long term.

I’m a gladiator in an alien arena. They give me a rifle & tell me that if I survive the day’s games I’ll be set free. I know they’re lying to me, but I’ll do my best all the same. I wish I had the guts to just let myself die.

June 9, 2014
I’m playing at a relatively small club opening for KISS.  KISS decides they want to play first because they want to get to bed early.  Not only are they not in make-up, they are super loose & generally awful.  The lead guitarist’s parts are out of place, too loud, & he has a horrible tone.  Half the crowd has left before Gene has a chance to spit blood (I thought he might not even bother).  After they’ve finished & I’m setting up my equipment, the sandman comes over & tells me there’s no reason for me to bother playing & I tell him, “I’m already here & ready to go.”

June 12, 2014
I’m loading explosives & mortars & shrapnel in an AKE (a contoured container designed to fit perfectly in an aircraft for shipping – jargon for these containers is “cans”) & from the back of the can through its clear wall dozens of TV crews are filming me do it. When I finish, I tell the people standing around the back that the load is designed to destroy anything within 50 yards of the back of it & I don’t suggest hanging around behind it. A gas station attendant in her green polo shirt with a BP logo embroidered on it asks me, “Where are we supposed to go? Where’s safe? Mexico?” I tell her, “Lady, Mexico isn’t even Mexico anymore. If I were you I’d just drive out into the country, to the middle of nowhere, & just stay alive for as long as you can.”

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