in a half completed letter, i described a series of dreams and layers of fever:
...i know theyre not real. I dreamt you were so so sad. i dreamt that everyone was mad at me. i dreamt i lived in a huge palace that was houses on top of houses and i had to get to the attic but i had to climb through windows upon windows and it was utterly impossible. I dreamt that i died. i dreamt that i killed myself. i dreamt that i spend the rest of my life trapped in my head like that movie johnny get your gun. i dreamt that my imagination was lost. i dreamt that i was in a dance recital i forgot to attend the classes for. they were all very disturbing and sometimes funny. I woke myself up talking out loud. i dreamt i lived in a canoe. i dreamt i drove across the atlantic to what i thought was your house but was really the Louvre and it was Free Day! we were wearing disguises dressed as eachother. it was funny to me. i ate mushrooms in one dream and i was real mad about it. I felt tricked.
a recent discussion left me wondering whether i would feel young like a mid-between floosey or old like an aged and...further, would i feel so small or would i wonder had i shrunk with osteoporosis.
no heel on your shoes, thank you and goodnight.
during a discussion on trees, songs and how we relate to our surroundings: the trees of the world, i ask the following:::::::
do you feel like an old sap? a swaying birch? a weepers willow?
i am a polar bear. i live on a glacier and and and and and...
i have a vacation home on saturday with a marvelous view of the hills of beverly, GREENLAND.
im glad to get a laugh. it makes me feel secure.
after a string of romantic comedies purely on accident and partially due to convenience, I felt defeated and alone. then i realized i was bored with their lives and not my own and i felt sad for them.
(i really did.)
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