Sundrip Journals
I have spotty flashes from last nights dream but I wanted to write them down anyway.
The mother wanted to put up a blue tent as an extension to her private restroom. The tent would extend into the hallway and block most of the path to her bedroom. I tried to talk her out of the tent because a tent in the house is red neck country. Next thing ya know we’d have a hub cap wind chime next to our Chevy on cinder blocks.
I do not take delight in seeing Lindsay Lohan walk this path nor did I find joy in watching Britney Spears fall down. I do not enjoy listening to Mel Gibson tear apart Oksana Grigorieva, nor do I sit in mocking judgment as I await the disastrous end to the unlikely marriage of Bristol Palin and Levi Johnston. I’m not pleased when others make mistakes or commit crimes but some are and they love it enough to market it and pass it off as news.
In commercials I see TV hosts use words like, “Exposé” and “investigation” when spewing the latest gossip they themselves started. I’m not even sure how this happens but it does, and it happens on prime time television. All that said, my actual rant isn’t about the gossip itself but about jobs created solely for the purpose of tearing down other human beings.
The dream started off with a mandatory meeting that included everyone employed by the mistress and her porn agency. Employees were gathered to be fired and told they’d fallen prey to the poor economy. What made this meeting different is that the owner wanted to make certain everyone knew just how incompetent they were. Her goal was to break their will and have them leave with less than they came to her with. If the employees agreed to this humiliation they could be eligible for re-hire, if not they could leave and take their chances.
A quadriplegic porn star decided he wasn’t going to be humiliated by the person he made lots of money for. As a matter of fact he was going to take the parrot (an actual parrot who had stared in several small films with him) then go home in his flying wheelchair. The bird was secured in a wooden but round cage and the young man flew about 30 feet above the heads of his former employees then right out the door. The employees were furious that he’d take the bird so they jumped at the chair, but to no avail. The young man was gone and all they could do was yell obscenities and promise revenge.
Yesterday I was kind of down in the dumps. Lets face it, I was frustrated and angered by a personal situation that doesn’t seem to be getting any better. Because I felt I’d royally messed up I began to think of myself as one who can’t get anything right. Well, that had to stop because the last thing I needed was to hear my own voice telling me how worthless I am. So, what did I do? I took stock then realized what I needed was to accomplish something positive. I needed to use one of my coping skills (creativity) and come up with something I could finish that day with success. I narrowed my focus then turned my attention to my positive skill sets.
I wonder why people believe a lie is better than the truth? I wonder why its easier for some to lie than to say, this is how it is, this is what happened. I hate liars. If you lie you become untrustworthy. Don’t lie, it’s not worth it. And why on earth do we even need to have the “don’t lie to me” conversation?
DL hasn’t spoken to me since last Friday afternoon. I think it’s ridiculous to live with someone and give them the silent treatment. He quit his job, again, and is now broke so he’s pouting around the house giving everyone attitude…. or the silent treatment, if we don’t kiss his ass. I find it interesting that my dog doesn’t like DL at all. Gus barks at him like he wants to tear his leg off. Friday when he walked up on me and pointed his finger in my face while yelling all kinds of obscenities Gus was having none of it. DL is simply a spoiled brat…and he’s living proof that Big Foot exists. This guy is one hairy bastard. Please shave your back, if not for you do it for those who have to look at you. I worry sometimes a flock of vultures will come flying out of that shit and attack me. Hell, I even want to put some Frontline on him cause I know he’s gonna need some sort of flea and tick control for that fur. Stupid mo-fo… putting your finger in my face!!!!!
I hate most games. I hate Monopoly. I mostly hate the phrase, “lets play a game” or “lets make it a game.” Those words make me cringe because that is how I was taught to endure pain. To think she taught me how to endure her blows my mind.
The little girl in the picture is hanging from a rope attached to the mother’s tongue. She’s long and stretched thin, holding a flower and smiling. Despite being put through the ringer, despite fearing death she smiles and holds her flower. The words crave, pace and quiet are written around the rainbow figure. An eye and a clock are to the left of that figure. Both faces are mostly dark with few distinguishing characteristics.
Sunday afternoon I went to have coffee and hang out with Midori and meet for the first time her friend “Bianca.” The three of us sat at the table chatting and laughing about nothing at all when Bianca started a mock argument with Midori. In fun I said, “Girl fight, girl fight. You never break up a girl fight because they might start tearing each others clothes off.” That’s when Bianca took her shirt off. Keep in mind I’ve only known this girl for a whole twenty minutes. I gasped, turned my head and asked her what on earth she was doing. She said, “You’re a lesbian. I thought you might want to see a nice pair of breasts.” After much coaxing Bianca put her shirt back on all while telling me how pretty her breasts are. And that dear readers is when Sunday turned from casual to just plain strange.
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