Thursday April 28 2011



DREAM: Atop a tall cylinder-like tower—it’s nighttime. Someone below on the ground is shooting medium sized bullet balls through a chute with intent on hitting me. I hold on tight to the ledges and carefully maneuver from side to side dodging the bullet balls despite their heat tracking abilities. Eventually I jump off the top and onto the ground where two fairly attractive girls, casually dressed, are huddled together inside the bottom of the cylinder structure. It’s understood they were the ones shooting at me. I lean in and embrace them, kissing one of their chests and feeling intense sexual desires. One of them spouts out, “Where’s my money? I want the money first.” “Don’t worry, I’ve got your thousand dollars right here. I’ll give it to you right now.” The scene switches. Margot and I are driving around the Target parking lot trying to find a place to park so we can have sex. She finds a spot near the front. I complain about how it’s too close and people will see us. We’re walking around now. Somehow our car has disappeared—we’re lying almost naked within the perimeter of a parking spot. I have a blue blanket and try to keep us covered up. She slips off her underwear, then we hop into a station wagon—a brown Subaru Outback mixed in with a PT Cruiser with one of those vinyl convertible coverings. In the other car next to us is a group of kids who claim we’re renting one of their cars. One of them opens the driver’s side door, intruding on us. Eventually, we’re alone.


Getting out of bed just before 4 p.m.


Breakfast: Cinnamon Crumpets with Butter and Honey. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin D.


Business.


Anthony’s on the couch reading a book—Josh is on the computer—Carmen’s sitting on the floor working on a painting.


Someone makes mention that Carmen was trying to get my attention earlier or that I was ignoring her. Whoa. No. Let me explain. “Anthony’s voice is like an elephant. I can easily recognize and ignore that. But yours is like a mouse. I can’t hear it enough to ignore it. I wasn’t ignoring you.”


Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

“Anthony, come have a taste of this liquid of life.”


At the storage unit with Gabe Niles working out a set for tomorrow’s show at The Jewish Mother Backstage. This isn’t a typical Monkey Beatz thing but I’m backing him up on drums for a deejay set.


Strawberry Yogurt.


Spending time with the queen.

Walking into the den, as soon as she sees me she says, “Little boy.” The small green shirt I chose to wear today with stripes in the center makes me appear childish. “I’m not a little boy! Look at you and your dress. Little girl!”

We go for a night walk around her neighborhood—noticing how abrasively quiet it is here compared to my side of town—the fresh rain scent and smell of spring—the upscale houses, not one alike.

Eating Popcorn with some White Wine—watching The King’s Speech [2010].

Steamy Sweaty Sex.

“A thing of beauty is a joy forever.”


As I’m about to walk into my house I greet Darren who’s sitting on the ledge of the porch. He’s not in a good mood—talking about doing some kind of suicidal demonstration in front of the Capital building. “I’m gonna make a shirt tomorrow that says ‘CONSUMERIST WHORE’.” Darren’s a troubled man with a lot of resentment towards the American establishment. He’s smart and knows his history. I feel the knowledge he’s obtained prevents him from happiness. I think once the truth is revealed behind everything, one can be disappointed and tend to experience a loss of hope. I wish I could help him. But really, this is nothing unusual for him to be on a soapbox.


Dinner: Lima Beans. Naan Bread with Fresh Garlic.


Newspaper route.

Instead of Coast to Coast, it’s just music for my listening entertainment.

Blueberry Donut from 7-11 and Iced Coffee.

At the Rehab Center box, my little frogger friend greets me again, this time attached to the inside of the box. [see above photo]


Google work.


Sleep 7 a.m.

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