Der 400lb of das und Gorilla und Der cummen das Quat sollten kurz ankommen, um mich im Pferd gezeichneten Wagen zur Fahrt heraus Hanzels zum neuen Landstrich abzuholen. Ich habe 4 Gallonen Borschtsch, zerstt 6 von der guten Schweinwurst und Irma kocht perogies. Dieser schwarze Hut ist in der Sonne so hei,
Yes, the old Mennonite barn raising is today at 400lbgorillas new digs. I should be getting picked up here shortly in the horsedrawn wagon. Totally looking forward to it.
Today, for a moment looked like it was going to be a great wreck beach day, but no its gone again. We currently have these amazing tall ships out in the bay, and the sight of them is blowing my mind. Its almost surreal to look out there in the bay right now, seeing what could very well be the exact same image that the local natives that lived in this pre-fucked-up paradise saw when the first of the Spanish galleons arrived.
I bet they wish now, that they had a better immigration policy in place back then. The shaman must have seen the evil.
Im still reeling a little bit from that dream I had at the time of the bombings, Funny how the mind works. I did not see a bomb when I woke up, but now when I read it again and think about the explosion in the underground tunnels, I totally see my dream as a perfect rendition of that happening and that is what trips me out.
The hot wind, the explosive blast, the shreds of fabric and the form of an old loved one suddenly being literally blown away. I heard about the eye witness accounts of the survivors in the train, in the blackened darkness of the smoke filled traincars punching with bare hands at the glass in attempts to get out. ( I see me in the dream, shredding knuckles in panicked punches at the door ) I see in my dream that evil head traveling on that red satin which became the rail for a train, the shrieking, the horror, and I hear of people stumbling out into the streets almost nude, their clothing being torn from their bodies, and I see me at the end of my own dream, finally emerging from the cabin nude into the street.
Its just bizarre, and I cant quite allow myself to drop back to a point of disbelief and force myself to think that nothing happened there on some strange plane. Perhaps the amount of energy and power that was happening at once blasted out some form of thought energy that on some parareal plane a sleeping mind could tap into, I dont know. Ill never know. It just happened, thats all, and I cant deny it.
I also cant allow it to drive me insane (anymore). Its happened too many times to me now, and happily this time I am ok with it.
Ok with it, but also totally cognitive of the sorrow that is left behind. Perhaps that was the imagery in the dream. Having everything that was a symbol of my love and the history of an entire lifetime of a longterm relationship disappear in such a sudden violent blast really brought it home for me.
There are saddened loved ones somewhere in a pub right now, talking to family members that survived and trying to get a handle of what their life is going to be like now. The death of husbands, wifes, lovers and enemies.
Thats how fast it ends. Its always possible.
I had a regular dream last night about being in a wheelchair. Paralyzed from the waist down, and my sex wouldnt work. I was dealing with it ok in my dream, but I woke with a stronger commitment to really take advantage of these cloudy, rainy days really be there for the friends I do have, and to really take advantage of what we so often take for granted.
What do you take me for? she asked, angrily.
He didnt look up from his drink, which was his 6th scotch in that dirty glass.
granted. He said.
Yay for Mennonite barn raisings. My camera batteries are charging, so expect a photographic journal of the blackhatted festivities.
Yes, the old Mennonite barn raising is today at 400lbgorillas new digs. I should be getting picked up here shortly in the horsedrawn wagon. Totally looking forward to it.
Today, for a moment looked like it was going to be a great wreck beach day, but no its gone again. We currently have these amazing tall ships out in the bay, and the sight of them is blowing my mind. Its almost surreal to look out there in the bay right now, seeing what could very well be the exact same image that the local natives that lived in this pre-fucked-up paradise saw when the first of the Spanish galleons arrived.
I bet they wish now, that they had a better immigration policy in place back then. The shaman must have seen the evil.
Im still reeling a little bit from that dream I had at the time of the bombings, Funny how the mind works. I did not see a bomb when I woke up, but now when I read it again and think about the explosion in the underground tunnels, I totally see my dream as a perfect rendition of that happening and that is what trips me out.
The hot wind, the explosive blast, the shreds of fabric and the form of an old loved one suddenly being literally blown away. I heard about the eye witness accounts of the survivors in the train, in the blackened darkness of the smoke filled traincars punching with bare hands at the glass in attempts to get out. ( I see me in the dream, shredding knuckles in panicked punches at the door ) I see in my dream that evil head traveling on that red satin which became the rail for a train, the shrieking, the horror, and I hear of people stumbling out into the streets almost nude, their clothing being torn from their bodies, and I see me at the end of my own dream, finally emerging from the cabin nude into the street.
Its just bizarre, and I cant quite allow myself to drop back to a point of disbelief and force myself to think that nothing happened there on some strange plane. Perhaps the amount of energy and power that was happening at once blasted out some form of thought energy that on some parareal plane a sleeping mind could tap into, I dont know. Ill never know. It just happened, thats all, and I cant deny it.
I also cant allow it to drive me insane (anymore). Its happened too many times to me now, and happily this time I am ok with it.
Ok with it, but also totally cognitive of the sorrow that is left behind. Perhaps that was the imagery in the dream. Having everything that was a symbol of my love and the history of an entire lifetime of a longterm relationship disappear in such a sudden violent blast really brought it home for me.
There are saddened loved ones somewhere in a pub right now, talking to family members that survived and trying to get a handle of what their life is going to be like now. The death of husbands, wifes, lovers and enemies.
Thats how fast it ends. Its always possible.
I had a regular dream last night about being in a wheelchair. Paralyzed from the waist down, and my sex wouldnt work. I was dealing with it ok in my dream, but I woke with a stronger commitment to really take advantage of these cloudy, rainy days really be there for the friends I do have, and to really take advantage of what we so often take for granted.
What do you take me for? she asked, angrily.
He didnt look up from his drink, which was his 6th scotch in that dirty glass.
granted. He said.
Yay for Mennonite barn raisings. My camera batteries are charging, so expect a photographic journal of the blackhatted festivities.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
wottan:
Its always nice when dreams inspire you to do something. Unless its the devil telling you to eat people or something.
eddie:
