DREAM

at work - housekeeping sort of room, rushing about, reorganizing the place - mostly guys though - boys rather - manager one above me, erhard's age, we're milling about - get some boys to help setup the
"____" board....made up of corkboard pieces? everything seems really flimsy - i wander somewhere else - it's a mad rush - manager calls me over to look at some things - the whole dream is about trying to remember - on "luz's" desk - he has loads of stuff laid out - then the "guest" we've been so nervously waiting arrives> Monique like - but not her, in face the otehr - a mix between Monique and Nicole i thik - everyone's nervous - we sitt at a table right by the sink inm the corner where the "extra hand" normallly goes. She asks for water, a very very specific kind. i immediately say no problem, manager 1 looks aghast. i run out.... thinking where to get it "__ pak" i try to remmeber the name.... the convienience store down the street ( a new york street) ...upon exiting the housekeeping room, i'm in the hallway which has become a bookstore magazine section..... i become preoccupied with my regular stuff....flaunt, national geographic... trying to remember the water name... to do it all at once.... wondering how much time i have... i see a "werewolf" appear on several different covers....young, cute..... hauntingly glaring back.... on one too many covers of endless magazines > paste and that one movie effects....i open one...and it's a very specific character/boy from either a common personals webpage that had somehow become famous....but upon reading the caption, it said Seacaucus Beer and Wine Festival (secaucus reading/feeling like Melbourne) ...i keep looking.... a friend shows up to chat.... from the left..... a woman comes in the door with her pet sheep from the right..... i think a sheep would be a cool pet until i get tired of hearing it bleat as they walk by ..... i keep rushing about, by this time the hall has expanded to a full bookstore..... i'm rushign about, "stumble" upon the werewolf lore section...see some interesting books, some gay-ish store attendants, older men hovering to see if i need help..... trying to remember the list i'm building in my head, i already have a stack of magazines ....flaunt somehow disappears.... two national geographics which i go back to try to get ones with less-dogeared covers..... then gabe and "__" (michael) shows up - not hte real ones - being chatty ( micheal somehow hidden behind gabe, cant' quite see his face) .... i'm rushinga bout nervous....trying to remember the water's name.... and get all teh books i want..... there's this one young adult book, (eragon in size and degree), with a single title main character's name.... dark blue cover, thick paperback, on the cover is a picture of the main character, facing away but turned to look back, his body is the same blue as the cover and he has long hair drawn into a pony tail, a bow and arrow or some equivalent native tool in his hand, the weird part is when you realize further down he has another ponytail where you realize it's a horses' mane, and this boy is a centaur of sorts.....another transformation literature....excited u intend to go back and grab it, or u do...and keep rushing about - --- interrupted wakeup *aLARM*

the future has arrived

“Around here, however, we don’t look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things… and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.”
–Walt Disney

Perception

THE VOICE YOU HEAR WHEN YOU READ SILENTLY

is not silent, it is a speaking-
out-loud voice in your head: it is spoken,
a voice is saying it
as you read. It is the writer's words,
of course, in a literary sense
his or her "voice" but the sound
of that voice is the sound of your voice.
Not the sound of the friends you know
or the sound of a tape played back
but your voice
caught in the dark cathedral
of your skull, your voice heard
by an internal ear informed by internal abstracts
and what you know by feeling,
having felt. It is your voice
saying, for example, the word "barn"
that the writer wrote
but the "barn" you say is a barn you know or knew. The voice
in your head, speaking as you read,
never says anything neutrally--some people
hated the barn they knew,
some people love the barn they know
so you hear the word loaded
and a sensory constellation
is lit: horse-gnawed stalls,
hayloft, black heat tape wrapping
a water pipe, a slippery
spilled chirr of oats from a split sack
the bony, filthy haunches of cows...
And "barn" is only a noun--no verb
or subject has entered into the sentence yet!
The voice you hear when you read to yourself
is the clearest voice: you speak it
speaking to you.

- Thomas Lux

Sticky 4/2: Now Caught Up

i haven't even showered yet.
i just want someone to know that.
i can't stand these continual wooded tree fallings.
a person who's existence is majorly based on the tension between those things that are expressed and those that are not. the tension.
all these variables that don't seem to have a source.
how to know if you sing well or not, for example.
or if you look good. or any number of random mostly indeterminable things. you hold yourself back from 'getting involved' with these variables - of confronting them. of having to face the challenge of resolving the tension between that which is determined and that which YOU determine.
"There was a sudden and overwhelming feeling of becoming."
My pleasure.