U2 dream
it was a U2 concert...in what seemed to be a high school gym.
for some reason, they had some famous country jackass with them...i remember thinking that they had to have asked him to join them onstage to make them more popular in the south.
I was right in the front row...which wasn't really a row because it was just people standing around on the gym floor. I was reclining on some kind of chair while most others were standing.
They let the country guy sing his song...which was some well known country standard...only the band didn't know it at all...and even he was screwing it all up and changing it...the only thing that worked was when Bono finally figured what the guy was doing, he sang high, clear, strong backing harmonies to the chorus...which was the only redeeming quality to the performance of the song.
I don't remember anything else from the performance other than looking around at wht i knew to be country fans and feeling some smug satisfaction that they were getting ready to experience U2.
After the show, some people gathered at the stage. Everyone was clamouring to see Edge (i wanted to see what guitar pedals he was using)...i din want to fight the crowd, so i moved over to look at Adam's stuff...which was sort of simple and boring...maybe just a chorus pedal and a tuner?...and no one else was there trying to meet him...i sort of averted my eyes from him and went back over to Edge...i finally got to the stage...and he was running some kinds of wierd vintage delay stuff...and i asked him "Do you use two delay pedals - one set to a single tap and another set to a longer, more repetitive delay?"
He ignored me...and I thought "dumbass - of course thats what he uses. Why the hell did you ask that?"
and that was it.
Why the hell am i dreaming about U2?
-----------------------
and I feel fine
"Well, i know what that song is called!"
"And what would that be?"
"'Its The End Of The World As We Know It.'"
"Thats right! That is the name of the song!" I decided not to mention the parenthetical (and i feel fine) part of the title...after all, we were just getting out of the car at the school..
"Yeah - because he sings a bunch of random words and then says [singing] 'its the end of the wooorld as we know it'.."
"Well, they're not completely random. There are lots of names of people and places in there."
"Really?"
"Yep."
"hmmm."
methinks i know what our next reading project will be.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
gray ice dream
my dreams are like movies these days.
it was so wierd.
this family - or at least three members of it - the grandfather, the mother and a boy of about 8 or 9...were out side when something like pompeii happened.it started raining...gray needles? fragments of something...sounded like bacon frying as it fell ...a type of ice? anyway - it coated them almost instantly...freezing them in whatever position they were in - looking up to the sky, the boy was in mid description of something (like my son will do - with his arms flailing around to describe)...and they were frozen and died there - like the pompeii people...and there was a closeup of the gray stuff creeping/solidifying along a tree branch...and as it solidified it took on a shiny, gray metallic color/texture (like ice again?)...and in the closeup...as the stuff creeeps up the branch, it somehow exposes this... we suddenly see a little boy's hand clasping the hand of what appears to be a green tree frog - - you know how they're all bright green and fleshy...and the little boy's hand was clasped in it...and as the gray stuff fully exposed the boy and the treefrog, they go from hard gray stuff to living beings...and the boy falls from the tree and suddenly become aware...that he has travelled time and place...like as the other people are coated and killed, this boy and the frog are exposed and made alive...and we know that the boy is a younger version of the child from earlier that was frozen...and it just gets wierder from there. There are different versions of the same family entering and exiting the same timespace at different times and are all running into each other and there are all kinds of intense emotions and wierdness and disbelief and at one point im running through the 'family home' with the little boy and we're trying to stop it from becoming all Disneyfied...i specifically remember walking down the hall and seeing a Quizno's kiosk and going "Quizno's?! What the hell is a Quizno's doing in here?!" and we run into a big movie theatre - the kind that they have at the mall and we're running up to the back of the theatre to warn avery one...and then i woke up.
but at one point i was driving down a road and suddenly it turned into this rickety wrap-around porch type pathway around this old man's house...and he is the patriarch of the whole family...and the porch -type path is made of almost rotten tree branches with big spaces between them and its all painted gray and white (you know - like a porch - gray boards, white rails) and its extremely rickety and very high off the ground...and i get all the way down to the ground finally and the old man comes out and says something like "yeah - need to take that down" and starts to shake the thing until it breaks and falls away from the house...and people cheered that he had finally brought this old walkway down...lke i had been the first to walk on it in like 30 years or something.
it was like a movie.i woke up with full awareness of it and was all "wow - i have a complete movie idea in my head."then i started to realize how crazy it all was.
I think the premise might almost work though - the different versions of a family being caught in some wierd inadvertant time travel thing and encountering different versions of themselves and learning some kind of lessons from that.
-----------
fading
fading communication.
fading light
fading inspiration
fading friendships
(i feel you spinning around trying all the knobs and switches of us and none of them do what they did before and its all just stopping and you're sad but not too...just ...disappointed...and you are one of many my friend. one of many.)
fading intellectual agility
fading humor
fading wit
fading vision
fading will to live
(really)
fading faith
fading memory.
fading paint
fading clothing
fading fading fading fading.everything gone to black
"don't try"
as i throw my hands
cause every time i try
i fade.
and im exiting now.
more reclusive
less responsive
less involved
until finally maybe this body shuts down
and leaves finally
release
in the movies i'm one of the characrers that gets killed off fairly early.
game over.
thanks for playing.
you can keep all my equipment
i wont need it.
--------------
pj morning
1-20-99
A flock of seagulls. In the middle of a shopping center parking lot. In the middle of kentucky in the middle of winter.Some things just don't need an explanation.
I saw some black birds cross low over the highway this morning. A pattern of imaginary cross hatch as they pass just outside my windshield.
Fruitfly myself inside out."Victory"
"Happy and Bleeding"
"Plants and Rags"
The way she says “began” is exquisite as she pulls my face to her black, cold crotch.I tell her in my weak american way – ‘I would never do that to you.’
My stomach - a burning mass of proof –I smell horrible and I feel like crying and sleeping.So I do alittle of both.Smoking would not be good today.This is all in the brain before caffeineDriving, faster, faster, the faster I go the more I relax.Not really. No real relief. No matter how fast.I think i'm sick today.
------------
eulogy -1997
While i was alive
There were storms
and people
Making do and not
There was soft and hard
Big and small
and everything you have to work for.
I was a man while i was here
if not so boastfully stated every day
and there was everything i didn't understand
and did and didn't want to
There were things that stuck to me
and things that wouldn't take
There were springtimes
and winters
and undefined days
of no future
and there were lovers
at least they thought they were
or tried to be.
Something while you have to sleep
and wake and shit and wor
kand hate
and there were sounds
I thought were me.
and there was drunken Jazz
psuedo sex dancing at 3am
and toilet worship
agonizing pain of being alive
my vomit on my clothes proves i exist.
A million starts and twice as many stops
and no care and no being of what you are.
and there were queers
and freaks with beautiful lives ahead
with no fear
and talented bums
and teachers.
and month-long acid freaks
afraid to make it all real and getinline
and just about a million players
with big, young eyes and
"yeah, man - i can'really doit that well yet..."
and songs that rattled the fucking windows
and real blues with no sound.
I walked through it all
with my heart for sale
and just wanting a little strength
a little proof that i am something.
and i walked through it all
right out the back door
into the desert
which is where i was headed anyway.
I'll dream about this tonight
with my boring television mind
and i'll wake knowing i'm stupid
and weak
and stil have to be.
I want every day to be like fire
and all of my insides worked out so hard
they shine from overuse
and everyone to hear just a few of my words and make
me king of myself
and one good lover - a queen that makes me worthy.
----------------
the locking
The rains were heavy last night.
I was up through them.
Like the final front moving through
to wipe out the last vestiges of fall
and bring in the true death of winter
and i did my thing too
finally saying the unsaid
how did it land?
the silence is news enough.
i guess i'll go back to sleep
perhaps the preceeding phrase
has larger implications than we know.
vonnegut argued that this period is not winter
but is "The Locking"
when nature begins to shut things down
and get ready for winter
which strikes in mid to late january
or even february
and can go on into april.
methinks this one will chill us down
like we've not seen in years.
just a feeling.
-------------------
turtle
they never tell you the secret.
they just back away
never saying things like
"if only you had said this in this way at this time"
"If only you had not done this in this way and said this."
they never let on.
they just stop, and back away and save their thoughts for people who will do nothing with them.
nothing productive.
like try
they don't want to help.
you're suposed to just know.
no, you just get to lose.
you don't get to learn.
or maybe you learn not to try again.
or try to learn not to try
or to remember
but they certainly don't want to help.
some sort of visciousness there.
something mean in that silence
but i do it wrong every time i guess
and you shouldn't have to endure that
you've every right to leave me be
cause i cant move there
and you wont move here
and it was rather a bad idea to begin with
and you don't want to try
because you've seen how i am
and i just can't handle someone like you
who won't open their fucking mouth to speak.
only to bite.
my dreams are like movies these days.
it was so wierd.
this family - or at least three members of it - the grandfather, the mother and a boy of about 8 or 9...were out side when something like pompeii happened.it started raining...gray needles? fragments of something...sounded like bacon frying as it fell ...a type of ice? anyway - it coated them almost instantly...freezing them in whatever position they were in - looking up to the sky, the boy was in mid description of something (like my son will do - with his arms flailing around to describe)...and they were frozen and died there - like the pompeii people...and there was a closeup of the gray stuff creeping/solidifying along a tree branch...and as it solidified it took on a shiny, gray metallic color/texture (like ice again?)...and in the closeup...as the stuff creeeps up the branch, it somehow exposes this... we suddenly see a little boy's hand clasping the hand of what appears to be a green tree frog - - you know how they're all bright green and fleshy...and the little boy's hand was clasped in it...and as the gray stuff fully exposed the boy and the treefrog, they go from hard gray stuff to living beings...and the boy falls from the tree and suddenly become aware...that he has travelled time and place...like as the other people are coated and killed, this boy and the frog are exposed and made alive...and we know that the boy is a younger version of the child from earlier that was frozen...and it just gets wierder from there. There are different versions of the same family entering and exiting the same timespace at different times and are all running into each other and there are all kinds of intense emotions and wierdness and disbelief and at one point im running through the 'family home' with the little boy and we're trying to stop it from becoming all Disneyfied...i specifically remember walking down the hall and seeing a Quizno's kiosk and going "Quizno's?! What the hell is a Quizno's doing in here?!" and we run into a big movie theatre - the kind that they have at the mall and we're running up to the back of the theatre to warn avery one...and then i woke up.
but at one point i was driving down a road and suddenly it turned into this rickety wrap-around porch type pathway around this old man's house...and he is the patriarch of the whole family...and the porch -type path is made of almost rotten tree branches with big spaces between them and its all painted gray and white (you know - like a porch - gray boards, white rails) and its extremely rickety and very high off the ground...and i get all the way down to the ground finally and the old man comes out and says something like "yeah - need to take that down" and starts to shake the thing until it breaks and falls away from the house...and people cheered that he had finally brought this old walkway down...lke i had been the first to walk on it in like 30 years or something.
it was like a movie.i woke up with full awareness of it and was all "wow - i have a complete movie idea in my head."then i started to realize how crazy it all was.
I think the premise might almost work though - the different versions of a family being caught in some wierd inadvertant time travel thing and encountering different versions of themselves and learning some kind of lessons from that.
-----------
fading
fading communication.
fading light
fading inspiration
fading friendships
(i feel you spinning around trying all the knobs and switches of us and none of them do what they did before and its all just stopping and you're sad but not too...just ...disappointed...and you are one of many my friend. one of many.)
fading intellectual agility
fading humor
fading wit
fading vision
fading will to live
(really)
fading faith
fading memory.
fading paint
fading clothing
fading fading fading fading.everything gone to black
"don't try"
as i throw my hands
cause every time i try
i fade.
and im exiting now.
more reclusive
less responsive
less involved
until finally maybe this body shuts down
and leaves finally
release
in the movies i'm one of the characrers that gets killed off fairly early.
game over.
thanks for playing.
you can keep all my equipment
i wont need it.
--------------
pj morning
1-20-99
A flock of seagulls. In the middle of a shopping center parking lot. In the middle of kentucky in the middle of winter.Some things just don't need an explanation.
I saw some black birds cross low over the highway this morning. A pattern of imaginary cross hatch as they pass just outside my windshield.
Fruitfly myself inside out."Victory"
"Happy and Bleeding"
"Plants and Rags"
The way she says “began” is exquisite as she pulls my face to her black, cold crotch.I tell her in my weak american way – ‘I would never do that to you.’
My stomach - a burning mass of proof –I smell horrible and I feel like crying and sleeping.So I do alittle of both.Smoking would not be good today.This is all in the brain before caffeineDriving, faster, faster, the faster I go the more I relax.Not really. No real relief. No matter how fast.I think i'm sick today.
------------
eulogy -1997
While i was alive
There were storms
and people
Making do and not
There was soft and hard
Big and small
and everything you have to work for.
I was a man while i was here
if not so boastfully stated every day
and there was everything i didn't understand
and did and didn't want to
There were things that stuck to me
and things that wouldn't take
There were springtimes
and winters
and undefined days
of no future
and there were lovers
at least they thought they were
or tried to be.
Something while you have to sleep
and wake and shit and wor
kand hate
and there were sounds
I thought were me.
and there was drunken Jazz
psuedo sex dancing at 3am
and toilet worship
agonizing pain of being alive
my vomit on my clothes proves i exist.
A million starts and twice as many stops
and no care and no being of what you are.
and there were queers
and freaks with beautiful lives ahead
with no fear
and talented bums
and teachers.
and month-long acid freaks
afraid to make it all real and getinline
and just about a million players
with big, young eyes and
"yeah, man - i can'really doit that well yet..."
and songs that rattled the fucking windows
and real blues with no sound.
I walked through it all
with my heart for sale
and just wanting a little strength
a little proof that i am something.
and i walked through it all
right out the back door
into the desert
which is where i was headed anyway.
I'll dream about this tonight
with my boring television mind
and i'll wake knowing i'm stupid
and weak
and stil have to be.
I want every day to be like fire
and all of my insides worked out so hard
they shine from overuse
and everyone to hear just a few of my words and make
me king of myself
and one good lover - a queen that makes me worthy.
----------------
the locking
The rains were heavy last night.
I was up through them.
Like the final front moving through
to wipe out the last vestiges of fall
and bring in the true death of winter
and i did my thing too
finally saying the unsaid
how did it land?
the silence is news enough.
i guess i'll go back to sleep
perhaps the preceeding phrase
has larger implications than we know.
vonnegut argued that this period is not winter
but is "The Locking"
when nature begins to shut things down
and get ready for winter
which strikes in mid to late january
or even february
and can go on into april.
methinks this one will chill us down
like we've not seen in years.
just a feeling.
-------------------
turtle
they never tell you the secret.
they just back away
never saying things like
"if only you had said this in this way at this time"
"If only you had not done this in this way and said this."
they never let on.
they just stop, and back away and save their thoughts for people who will do nothing with them.
nothing productive.
like try
they don't want to help.
you're suposed to just know.
no, you just get to lose.
you don't get to learn.
or maybe you learn not to try again.
or try to learn not to try
or to remember
but they certainly don't want to help.
some sort of visciousness there.
something mean in that silence
but i do it wrong every time i guess
and you shouldn't have to endure that
you've every right to leave me be
cause i cant move there
and you wont move here
and it was rather a bad idea to begin with
and you don't want to try
because you've seen how i am
and i just can't handle someone like you
who won't open their fucking mouth to speak.
only to bite.
Paula Abdul saved my life
do you think that perhaps we know how to die?
that the soul knows how to end the body without raising use of hand or tool - only the the decision be not to go on?
these stories we hear of lifelong couples separated by the death of one only to be followed shortly by the other - is it coicidence that they reach the end at about the same time - that they are of similar age and the body shuts down just because it is time to shut down or is that it was love that powered these people and when their love is gone, they simply wish no longer to exist and choose, choose to die?
once about ten years ago, i had a bad experience on mushrooms. i left the terrifying party and arrived home - to a singlewide trailer i was occupying for the second half of a month a freind of mine had left behind for the ummer - rent paid - i was a sanctioned squatter.
i laid in my bed listening to the beating of my heart. i am part drummer, and i was on mushrooms, so I started grooving around my heartbeat - building rhythms, polyrhythms and solid beats - all with the steady heartbeat as their core. in a 'drum circle', i am apt to not initiate the groove, but allow it to grow, find it, move around it, into it and then try to change the fundamental beat at the core...the time signature even. what usually happens is I break the jam down...the grooving stops because the core had changed...this is why im only part drummer - this is not nice, communal drumming, it is selfish showboating and it generally makes things not fun.
well.
this night, i stayed true to my nature and began to focus on my heartbeat...trying to change the groove..then realized that I was trying to change my own heartbeat...and in a flash of gut-tightening fear, i felt that I had the power - somehow - to stop my own heartbeat. I had to get away from it but could not..it pumped in my ears and in my chest and moved the bed i was on...my own heartbeat became a frightening thing becaus i wanted it to stop and felt that something in me would stop it if I had to continue to listen to it.
quickly, i located the little clock radio i had (one of the few belongings i had at the time) and turned it to whatever station it was tuned to, which was the local, bad, low-grade pop station. A Paula Abdul song i think was playing. I brought the radio into the bed with me and cradled it to my chest as i curled into a fetal position...listening..to anything other than my relentless heartbeat.
eventually i slept.
i was sure that i could have stopped my own heart and part of me still believes i could have.
is this the power that we have?
if we could simply connect with ourselves enough can we commit suicide without an instrument or physical act?
maybe not.
maybe that was just a bad trip.
you know its a bad trip when Paula Abdul makes it better.
------------------
fade
there are many ways
to let it fade.
grown alone.
given to
detatchment?
its back again
the doing.
the doing over the being.
yes, many ways to fade.
as many as there are
people.
the rules of detatchment dictate
forthwith
you should stop
engagement.
and you looked at me
there in the yard
and I backed smilingly
drunkenly away
in the sun
and watched you recede
and wondered if i'd missed
or was right to hold my tongue.
"if you need absolutely anything"
i heard echoing in my head
and you stood with that thought in your eyes
were you watching me go
knowing you would not see me again?
refusing to smile
refusing to let it be okay
needing the pain?
keep it.
i will suffer no more your weight
or the threat of imminent heartbreak
or the possibility
the truth that
I just wasn't
It.
and now, its true
that I do not understand
that i did not understand
that it was all lost on me
that the reality of moments
non-ethereal
cannot be made magic
by bullshit
by ignoring the elephant
standing on your crotch
by dreaming away into some abstracted interpretation
of real human emotion
explained
like Rube Goldberg
flips a switch
no, the next time, i'm on.
i'm in.
i'm there
with no analysis
do be do be do.
but she'll be scared
of you
---------------
falling down
as I age, of course this will matter less and less to people around me...ill just become a graying marcher in the vast armies of mediocrity.
as long as i don't do any crazy shit like make sombody's head into a hat or drive my car through a church or something, the world will happily let me while away my time tucked away in some litte corner somewhere and they'll clean up all my shit when I kick off...in my sleep...after falling asleep drunk...after having been out at some party where i watched people dance and laugh for a couple hours before i threw my drink in the middle of the floor and walked out.
----------------------
do you think that perhaps we know how to die?
that the soul knows how to end the body without raising use of hand or tool - only the the decision be not to go on?
these stories we hear of lifelong couples separated by the death of one only to be followed shortly by the other - is it coicidence that they reach the end at about the same time - that they are of similar age and the body shuts down just because it is time to shut down or is that it was love that powered these people and when their love is gone, they simply wish no longer to exist and choose, choose to die?
once about ten years ago, i had a bad experience on mushrooms. i left the terrifying party and arrived home - to a singlewide trailer i was occupying for the second half of a month a freind of mine had left behind for the ummer - rent paid - i was a sanctioned squatter.
i laid in my bed listening to the beating of my heart. i am part drummer, and i was on mushrooms, so I started grooving around my heartbeat - building rhythms, polyrhythms and solid beats - all with the steady heartbeat as their core. in a 'drum circle', i am apt to not initiate the groove, but allow it to grow, find it, move around it, into it and then try to change the fundamental beat at the core...the time signature even. what usually happens is I break the jam down...the grooving stops because the core had changed...this is why im only part drummer - this is not nice, communal drumming, it is selfish showboating and it generally makes things not fun.
well.
this night, i stayed true to my nature and began to focus on my heartbeat...trying to change the groove..then realized that I was trying to change my own heartbeat...and in a flash of gut-tightening fear, i felt that I had the power - somehow - to stop my own heartbeat. I had to get away from it but could not..it pumped in my ears and in my chest and moved the bed i was on...my own heartbeat became a frightening thing becaus i wanted it to stop and felt that something in me would stop it if I had to continue to listen to it.
quickly, i located the little clock radio i had (one of the few belongings i had at the time) and turned it to whatever station it was tuned to, which was the local, bad, low-grade pop station. A Paula Abdul song i think was playing. I brought the radio into the bed with me and cradled it to my chest as i curled into a fetal position...listening..to anything other than my relentless heartbeat.
eventually i slept.
i was sure that i could have stopped my own heart and part of me still believes i could have.
is this the power that we have?
if we could simply connect with ourselves enough can we commit suicide without an instrument or physical act?
maybe not.
maybe that was just a bad trip.
you know its a bad trip when Paula Abdul makes it better.
------------------
fade
there are many ways
to let it fade.
grown alone.
given to
detatchment?
its back again
the doing.
the doing over the being.
yes, many ways to fade.
as many as there are
people.
the rules of detatchment dictate
forthwith
you should stop
engagement.
and you looked at me
there in the yard
and I backed smilingly
drunkenly away
in the sun
and watched you recede
and wondered if i'd missed
or was right to hold my tongue.
"if you need absolutely anything"
i heard echoing in my head
and you stood with that thought in your eyes
were you watching me go
knowing you would not see me again?
refusing to smile
refusing to let it be okay
needing the pain?
keep it.
i will suffer no more your weight
or the threat of imminent heartbreak
or the possibility
the truth that
I just wasn't
It.
and now, its true
that I do not understand
that i did not understand
that it was all lost on me
that the reality of moments
non-ethereal
cannot be made magic
by bullshit
by ignoring the elephant
standing on your crotch
by dreaming away into some abstracted interpretation
of real human emotion
explained
like Rube Goldberg
flips a switch
no, the next time, i'm on.
i'm in.
i'm there
with no analysis
do be do be do.
but she'll be scared
of you
---------------
falling down
as I age, of course this will matter less and less to people around me...ill just become a graying marcher in the vast armies of mediocrity.
as long as i don't do any crazy shit like make sombody's head into a hat or drive my car through a church or something, the world will happily let me while away my time tucked away in some litte corner somewhere and they'll clean up all my shit when I kick off...in my sleep...after falling asleep drunk...after having been out at some party where i watched people dance and laugh for a couple hours before i threw my drink in the middle of the floor and walked out.
----------------------
a dream described
you describe a dream to someone, they interpret and describe back to you...only they're talented and can write:
dream of the girl in green
nightly visiting the precipice, salted ocean c
linging to the dream: her face,
the way her hands recede beneath a sweater: green
her hair in dervish whip of coils,
pays frenzied homage to the winds
and her eyes cup saccharine secrets
that belie the depth she’s learned to hide...
what have you gone to find below the ledge?
what do you bring to her upon the sand?
what treasure there against rock reason,
makes you know you’ve found THE thing?
the answer slips in between the dreaming
and when you brush her lips: awakening.
i don't know why im here
I put my son to bed with the radio timer on his clock radio set to 13 minutes. Im almost asleep on the couch when It cuts off in the middle of his "favorite song" and he's almost in tears. He yells from his room to tell me "DADDY!!! It cut off in the middle of my FAVORITE SONG!!!" I yell back to the room, "im sorry - goodnight." and he replies with a diminutive "goodnight." and im more sad than i've been all night.
I eventuallly get back to sleep...unable to move to the bed --the couch is somehow more comfortable...restrictive..closer...smaller. I wake up early after a dream. Mike and I were practicing (full guitar rigs set up outside, but just us - no other band members) on the top of a local building when we see a fully armed military helicopter circling overhead.
We watch as it lowers and bounces off of a huge propane storage tank and splashes into the river. We gasp at each other and start to run, because we know that the chopper was carrying nukes. "DIAL 911 NOW!!!" and i look over the edge of the 2-3 story building...contemplating jumping, but unable to bring myself to do it. There is a click like when you hear a closeby lightning strike and then I see my friend Ed running down the street in front of a wall of fire....then i wake up.
I figure its about 7. I try to doze for a while and realize that i should just get up anyway. I have to put my guitar rig in the car for the gig downtown tonight...plus table lamps. We're using table lamps for lights.
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I put my son to bed with the radio timer on his clock radio set to 13 minutes. Im almost asleep on the couch when It cuts off in the middle of his "favorite song" and he's almost in tears. He yells from his room to tell me "DADDY!!! It cut off in the middle of my FAVORITE SONG!!!" I yell back to the room, "im sorry - goodnight." and he replies with a diminutive "goodnight." and im more sad than i've been all night.
I eventuallly get back to sleep...unable to move to the bed --the couch is somehow more comfortable...restrictive..closer...smaller. I wake up early after a dream. Mike and I were practicing (full guitar rigs set up outside, but just us - no other band members) on the top of a local building when we see a fully armed military helicopter circling overhead.
We watch as it lowers and bounces off of a huge propane storage tank and splashes into the river. We gasp at each other and start to run, because we know that the chopper was carrying nukes. "DIAL 911 NOW!!!" and i look over the edge of the 2-3 story building...contemplating jumping, but unable to bring myself to do it. There is a click like when you hear a closeby lightning strike and then I see my friend Ed running down the street in front of a wall of fire....then i wake up.
I figure its about 7. I try to doze for a while and realize that i should just get up anyway. I have to put my guitar rig in the car for the gig downtown tonight...plus table lamps. We're using table lamps for lights.
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