pica_pica

No dreams remembered.

I suppose its all still the bottom end of that cyclical scythe swing. I hope its on the way up though because its beautiful outside, and I am suddenly realizing its summer again.

I was shooting for my old bedtime of 9:00 last night, yeah I know.. outta control! 10 became 11 and I was still puttering about out here. I forced myself into bed soon thereafter, feeling absolutely no need of sleep but going anyways.
I brushed what I could of the dog hair off the bed, kneeled down and then allowed myself a slow motion jesus Christ pose bellyflop, arms out.
I slid my hands under the pillows to where the cotton is the coolest, and hit the spine of a book.

Oh yeah, that Elmore Leonard book I found a few weeks ago. Touch about a guy named Juvenal who is a stigmatic (or is that a stigmatist?). He heals people.

Its a fast read, that book. Not like Wuthering Heights which is still sitting here unfinished. I only had about 20 or 30 pages left to the end. I rolled over, turned on the bedside light, and flipped through to find where Id left off.

My alarm clock said it was 12:23 when I read the last sentence in that book. The ending was rather lame by Elmore Leonard standards, and I turned off the light.
No sleep was coming my way anytime soon it seemed, but I did think about dreams. Wanting them.

I suppose, in a way, me wanting dreams right now is a lot like snorkeling in the Red Sea.
The land around the Red Sea is so barren, so unicoloured, red rock. Sand, and every now and then if youre lucky, the green of some hardy plant clinging to life through deep deep roots.




But as soon as you step out into the blue and submerge, its a different world. SO many colours, such exotic beauty:



Still no pomegranates around here, and that POM juice I bought last night didnt quite quench my want of one.

I saw a guy on 60 minutes last night named Marc Salem that was doing a bunch of things with what he refused to call mind reading, and it made me feel a little bit better about some things.