desidia

First things first. Inspired through _DictionaryGirl_'s pics I had to make one for myself.



I'm quite smitten with it particularly late at night when I wear my vodka goggles

Last night I had the most bizzare dreams. Bizzare because they weren't bizzare. For the first time in 23 years I had a "naked in public" dream. It was really hot out so I was going around in my a shirt and boxers (my emily shirt and nbc boxers specifically). I went into a starbucks with some friends to get a drink and it was still so hot I took my shirt off because I had a black wifebeater underneath but somehow my boxers came off too and I didn't notice.

People eventually noticed but it wasn't like everyone was laughing at me and I was embarassed to death. A few people chuckled, a few girls were humoured and made cat calls and all in all it wasn't a big scene. I hid myself under my loose shirt and shimmied the shorts back on and everyone went about their business.

It was just strange that its supposedly such a common dream but I'd never dreamt it before.

Later I dreamt I was in the revolutionary war. I enjoyed it immensely because of the way they fought back then; you lined up, marched forward and shot down a row of people. lather, rinse, repeat. It made things delightfully easy because I could reload a gun about 8x faster than anyone else and the red coats wouldn't even bother trying to dodge or hide but simply advanced in a near Space Invaders style.

Again, the dream itself is in no way important to me. What is important is that as long as I can remember I've often had guns in my dream but on some level I was always aware it was a dream gun and it wouldn't work. For years and years how guns would work in my mind is I'd pull the trigger and will the person or object to be shot. And it wasn't me with the gun who had to concentrate, it was the me dreaming.

Last night though the gun worked. It didn't recoil and I don't remember it making a sound but it actually fired a projectile.

Together these two dreams are... cause for some fair amount of concern. These dreams seem so ordinary, does this mean I'm becoming ordinary? And if I was, what would that really mean and would I see it as a positve or a negative?

I've often wished to be anyone other than me but that was a long time ago and now becoming something less than who I am now would not be good at all. Becoming more ordinary I doubt will help me over my artists block or take my art in a direction I want it to go. If anything I want to be more myself, more concentrated. Just... without the neuroses si'vous plait.

I think I'll try actually fucking paint today. Not just get out the paints and stare at the canvas. I'll really leave something there, anything. Honestly I'll probably just stare again but one of these days...

Oh yeah, yesterday around 5:30 I went to get the mail. From the mailbox a quarter of a mile away. Bad idea. It wasn't totally dark when I left but it was before I got there. And a mist had settled which made things so much worse for visibility and creepiness factors.

I couldn't see shit. The only thing I could make out was where the trees ended and the sky began. The road was patches of off-black globs on a black palatte. They very well could have been those vague shapes that lights sometimes temporarily burn into your retinas. I navigated by turning my head back and forth and walking towards the patches of dark grey that didn't follow my vision. It took forever. Theres a street light where the gravel driveway ends and meets the paved by unmarked road; by the mailbox. The mist kept it from illuminating anything more than 50 feet away and it was the first time I had seen it without the headlights of car so it looked so surreal.

It was still well off but I didn't recognize it at all it looked so strange I wasn't sure if I was on the right path. I started to think about corpse lights and will o' the wisps and grow a little worried. Isn't that what they do? lead you away from your path in the dark then they find you dead or never again?

Well I made it and got the mail and started back and didn't get far before my shadow blended into the road and it all turned to intangible gray with no shape or dimension and I had been the dark a long time now and my the adjustion of my pupils did absolutely nothing and I started to get pretty scared. I couldn't see a damn thing and I couldn't hear a damn thing over walking a gravel road and I sure as hell wasn't going to stop and take a listen. Not that I suspected there was but it just was no help at all knowing there could have been anything out there: a different path taking me away from the house, a hole or branch to trip on, some animal, a murderer, sasquatch, a bottomless pit.

Then I made it back. Thats not much of a story, just an experience I wanted to share. Living in the woods with no peers or anywhere to go it was the most interesting thing that happened to me in a week. Well I suppose there was that lovely phone sex on Saturday...