No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2001-06-02 - 11:03 a.m.

beautiful morning and last night's dream

good gracious what a beautiful morning. and instead of being stuck in an office watching the world go by, i have already been out in that gorgeous sunny world and will be out into it again.

i decided that i'm not going to drink at all for the whole of June. it was getting too easy to just have a beer or two at the end of the day. and when you add that all up, that's a lot of beer.

so this morning, ah this morning i awoke with no bad taste in my mouth, no headache, no fuzzyness. that's way too rare an event for a saturday morning. way too rare.

i just got back from a bike ride. i might go on another one later. i think i'll hang by the pool some too. but for right now, a shower, some *food*, some caffiene, and some tupes.

ah, what a beautiful morning.


just remembered my dream from last night. weird. i was in a kitchen with tom cruise (i dunno) and a couple of mobsters. tom and the mobsters were engaged in this weird form of gambling where the mobsters would pick out one of a bunch of m&m's scattered across the floor. tom then had to grab that m&m in his mouth while at a dead run. he was surprisingly good at it. anyway, sometime after the stakes had risen to the house we were in, i got pulled aside by one of the mobsters. he shot me in the side of the head. i was still alive, but i was trying to play dead. but my nose was all stuffed up because of my allergies and it kept whistling when i breathed. so then i shifted to the tactic of convincing the mobster that i was brain dead, just a drooling moron. this worked. they kidnapped tom and left. eventually my family comes home and finds me. but for some reason i forget that i can actually talk, and keep doing the drooling moron bit. so i can't tell them that tom's been kidnapped and i need to get to a hospital (because i'm still bleeding out of this hole in the side of my head). all the while mom is trying to have a conversation with me and occassionally saying things like "you should get that scratch looked at dear". and i'm still playing the drooling moron. it ended there. don't ask me what it means, i have no fricking idea.

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