|Overcast Organization Opera.
||[Jun. 21st, 2004|09:30 am]
|||||Adult. - Marathon||]|
The canvas set in Los Angeles to gray skies, cool temperatures, some wind.
On a more Detroit-like day, I say for myself . . . it is time for more computer organization.
I can do all sorts of wonderful things for private sector checks, but I lack the skills to do for myself.
Such is the grand confusion of life, like a misunderstood winner that comes in 2nd place.
I forget my place . . . I don't think I ever had one.
Of note, I hadn't been lucky for normal sleep in some time. Finally, I crashed in mid-afternoon yesterday, and after many hours of sleep, I woke up about three to four hours before dawn . . . and I rested there, getting even more pseudo-slumber.
Sleep is one of my favorite exercises, let it be known.
Also of note, I finally remembered a dream. Straight from the CGI-scape of The Day After Tomorrow, Jim and I were in the apartment, and tornados descended upon Los Angeles. From this dream, I looked out the window . . . to see the perfect black wind-killer, approaching our direction.
Running helter-skelter, Jim and I realized there wasn't any place to take cover. The building, like more than a few here, has an open interior area.
Jim told me a couple of days ago that people who remember their dreams usually wake up without any pressing or quick rise. I noticed that most of my life, I have been scrambling from my bed.
The theatre of the mind holds precious commodity to me.