mind scribbles for Tuesday June 20 2000

"I believe that fate has brought us here And we should be together But we're not" macy gray "I try"

Dreams. So much is made of them. Martin Luther King had a dream, though some say it was someone else's dream and he repeated it.

Dylan sings 'I"ll let you be in my dream if I can be in yours"

Terrell writes "Pick a dream and stay awake in it". A once-were-priest from a former formal foreign Order religious group gave me grief over it. Did the religious number on it. Oh we need to be ever vigilant not living in dreams and all. Good golly, can't get away from people tyring to save me. My 95 year old father still prays for my salvation up there in Clifton Park, New York. "Hi dad!". I grew up in a missionary family. Now detest the missionary postion. Post-missionary position - that's me. We had family missionaries to China (back at the beginning of last century before they were given the boot), Cambodia, Africa, some other places. To degrest just for a second here - to make amends for what I had to put up with I kind of pitched a few suitcases of things these missionaries stored in our basebament from their 'missionary work'. Some century old robes and stuff like that. We give. They give. I got.

Now the world coughs and sputters from the love of God these missionaries spread around to the less fortuantae.

A funny side note - Uncle Joe - bless his whatever - the god he was pushing gave him cancer and he died a few years ago - but when he was alive and kicking and what they call a furlow was visiting Hawaii in 1970. I was in some crazed religious Order but never told him. He had just been in Laos or some such place converting the heathens to his take on god. I went to visit him at the hotel he was staying at. He was in a frantic missinary zeal type of mood. We met in the lobby, he was waving his bible around. He was a bit off his face - not in the mass-minded, as they say in the funny papers, type of way, but in a relgious off-his-face frenzy. It took me a while to sort out what he was on about. The upshot of it all was that he left Asia after five years of trying to convert the heathen Buddist in their shaphron robes - and he arrives in Hawaii, home of the deconstructed missinoary position, to see the Hara Krisnas at the airport and in the streets of Waikiki. He had traveled around the world to save these heathen folks only to return to the States to see them in our streets and at our airport. Here in the United States of America where god reigns supreme. I tried to explain to him that the Hara Krisna were just a trendy passing fade - a rebellion against the status guo type of thing, a new take on the Marx concept that relgion is the opiate of the people. Like the nut cases who commiit suicide when they saw the comet Hale Bopp, or the screwed up folks who do TM, and all these other trendy sick passing fades. But he did not understand. And god gave him cancer and now he is dead.

Dreams! Are we speaking of aspirations? Such as my son's baseball... or my son's piecing....? Or are we talking about the dreams we have when we sleep? The dreams we drive into town for?

Day dreams...I had a dream we were not a dream...

with the dreams I have in my sleep = thought could hang onto you - below

The lady in my dream said so too.

When I awoke she was still smiling then as my eyes focused to some distant phase of my being.

children somewhere on the periphery of my mist ask if breakfast is ready.

I don't even know her name (orgy) and she was so good.

Every night it is a different possesor

Months to years I remember them from my dreams

Last night she was an oriental.

After we mad love she asked me not to leave because if I did she would become danger's sister

But I did leave her and her.

She had a perfume on (below) I had never sensed before.

My children yelling for breakfast

I wanted to go back to the oriental lover who said she'd be in danger if I left.

A refugee trapped in my dream world.

My children needed nourishment.

I looked for breasts http://www.angelfire.com/hi/EMAIL/index.html (paddock -) which had faded with morning's shadows.

I gave them milk and ceral

Children's paraphernalia lay about like the end of every battle.

And as I moved about collecting pajamas, comics, lego, and G.G. Joes I quietly closed my eyes and slipped back into my lover's arms.

with wakefulness