Margot.
Margot is a really strange-sounding name. Too close to escargot, I think. A strange-sounding name for a girl I was pretty friendly with about a year ago. I had a dream about her last night, sorta randomly. I remember passing her on an apartment stairwell that I didn't recognize, stopping to say hello, and doing one of those halting, almost-awkward little "are we kissing? are we talking?" dances that starts with a sentence and ends with two people swapping saliva like rare baseball cards. And that was it, really. One of the best kissers I've ever met, Margot was. She took pride in it. Threw herself into it with the vigor of the single-mindedly career-obssessed. You'd think she was expecting a performance evaluation at the end of the month, or something.
Anyway, it was a good dream. I woke up earlier than I would have liked; never gave it a chance to get as good as it could have. Too early in the morning, too. Something like 5 am. So I took off my glasses, since I'd fallen asleep with them on, and went back to bed. Fell right into a dream in which I was returning to a film camp I had been in 3 years before (though I never went to any such camp, really). I remember wanting desperately to do better than I had the previous time, but wound up spending most of my time helping everyone else make their own films great and didn't leave myself time to come up with my own. As much as I love the power of dreams to stimulate waking emotions and sensations, I'm not fond of being made to panic when I really ought to be resting.
****
CAMERA! Mr. UPS dropped it off this morning. Stay tuned for photos of monkeys, roller coasters, sloths, beaches, and scantily clad women massaging each other with exotic costa rican oils.
<.<
>.>
...
Dinsdale...?
DIIIIINNNNSDAAAAAALE....
Margot is a really strange-sounding name. Too close to escargot, I think. A strange-sounding name for a girl I was pretty friendly with about a year ago. I had a dream about her last night, sorta randomly. I remember passing her on an apartment stairwell that I didn't recognize, stopping to say hello, and doing one of those halting, almost-awkward little "are we kissing? are we talking?" dances that starts with a sentence and ends with two people swapping saliva like rare baseball cards. And that was it, really. One of the best kissers I've ever met, Margot was. She took pride in it. Threw herself into it with the vigor of the single-mindedly career-obssessed. You'd think she was expecting a performance evaluation at the end of the month, or something.
Anyway, it was a good dream. I woke up earlier than I would have liked; never gave it a chance to get as good as it could have. Too early in the morning, too. Something like 5 am. So I took off my glasses, since I'd fallen asleep with them on, and went back to bed. Fell right into a dream in which I was returning to a film camp I had been in 3 years before (though I never went to any such camp, really). I remember wanting desperately to do better than I had the previous time, but wound up spending most of my time helping everyone else make their own films great and didn't leave myself time to come up with my own. As much as I love the power of dreams to stimulate waking emotions and sensations, I'm not fond of being made to panic when I really ought to be resting.
****
CAMERA! Mr. UPS dropped it off this morning. Stay tuned for photos of monkeys, roller coasters, sloths, beaches, and scantily clad women massaging each other with exotic costa rican oils.
<.<
>.>
...
Dinsdale...?
DIIIIINNNNSDAAAAAALE....
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