21. Siebenhundertsiebenundsiebsig. 343.

I am, at the same time, in a Jewish Ghettoed version of my apartment, a gymnasium, containing hundreds of people, and the courtroom from "Devil's Advocate." But it's two years after the "Vision," and I have a son, and my wife and i are fine. There are people, outside, harassing us, and i know them. They are Rob and people from Horizons, who have said, in the past, that they were my friends. The black guy, from Milton's firm, is sitting in my living room, talking to me. I'm in my room, and the living room, pulling clothes from my dresser, and looking out the window. The iron stair case is the same as from countless other dreams, involving apartments.

I'm in the parking lot, in a van/ flat bed truck, heading toward the gymnasium, which is in the same parking lot as my apartment. We're semi-armed, and there are people from GDS, here.

In the gym, there are machinations for the Apocalypse, and there are people from Vox, wondering where i've been. The elevator, from the hotel/business office in my head, and some other brief impressions. I wake up

The 777th Live journal. Yay. i'm a little not here, at the moment, but it still feels like it needs to be written. I did very little today. i've had some plans confused,and upset, and i've watched an ass load of Farscape (marathon, today.), and ate a whole lot of really good food, tonight. Got into D.C. yesterday, and yeah, i'm alive and shit. Deal with it. (Rancid - [Maxwell Murder]). And i want to talk about some things, here, while this laptop keyboard annoys the living shite out of me. Mainly i want to talk about Reading People.

Wintermute Nee Gibson taught us that the hologram was the best model we had of the way we use the world. (Rancid - [The 11th Hour]). We are an extremely visual race, and the way we represent that should be, as well. We started with pictographs, cave paintings, moved to slide shows, photography, moving pictures, television, holographs, virtual reality, and so on. (Rancid - [Roots Radicals]). We like things to Appear as themselves, and not something else. Why, then, do we insist on having people "read" us? We don't read each other, we view, and we interpret. We present models, for view, and they are either accurate representations of what we are trying to present, or they are not.

Rancid - [Time Bomb]--- We cannot "read" minds. We see, hold, feel, taste, hear, smell, experience minds. We Read books. The presentation of anything Other than what you want the person to experience is a form of Lying. It is dishonest to them, and, ultimately, yourself. To wrap it up, and put it all forth in the name of wanting someone to be able to "Read" you is only to exacerbate the situation. (Rancid - [Olympia, Wa]). Let someone experience you, and know you. Don't make them try to Read you. Of course, there are the varying levels of fun, and playing around. In these cases, all sides should be secure in the presentation, and the experiences that came before. Games are no problem, as long as all sides are aware that they are being played. ;)

Rancid - [Lock, Step, & Gone])--- So i'm a little insecure, when it comes to people i admire, and want to please. We all are. They get under our skin and they are able to touch us in places and make us want to do things. They are things, most likely, that we would have done, under our own volition, in time, but the simple catalysation of the Other is irksome. (Rancid - [Junkie Man]). The point of it all is this: i'm not Certain in the ways of interactions, and i never will be. Nothing is ever certain. It makes things rocky. There are people i'd rather not lose. There are some i was doomed to lose, from the beginning. There are some who were doomed to lose me. It's the way shit is, and the way it has to go. But that doesn't mean i have to sit quietly and accept it.

I will try to keep as many of you as i possibly can. (Rancid - [Listed M.I.A.]). I want to not have to read you. I want to be able to See you, experience you, and know the model of you that you present. I want it to be real. And all that other pansy shit.

There are those people who can get at us with the things they do and say. (Rancid - [Ruby Soho]). We get upset, and uncomfortable, then, and we push them away, or we pick up a static field, causing discomfort to them, in turn. Do we dislike ourselves for being vulnerable, them for knowing the chinks in the armour, or the actual enjoyment, there, underneath it all? Destination unkown... Non rhetorical questions, to be considered, koan-like, and answered, in your own good time.

Rancid - [Daly City Train]--- On unrelated notes, i saw a picture of Debbie Harry, from the video for Heart of Glass, and i was reminded of someone i know. (Rancid - [Journey to the End of East Bay]). Happy Birthday, Mithras. Hello Jesus, sorry your followers can be thieves.

Joe Strummer's dead. He died the 23rd or the 22nd, or the day before. Go listen to "Story of The Clash," or "London Calling." You know you love it, anyway... Like i need to tell you to listen to it... (Rancid - [Old Friend]). Yeah... I'm going to go, now. Because i don't know what else to say. {Saw a guy at Walmart wearing a Miskatonic U. shirt. He worked there. He was looking really stressed, so i complimented him on it. He seemed to feel better, after that.}

I'm closer to some of my friends, and people i miss, know and respect. I'm further away from others. You're all invited to my New Year's Party. All of you. E-mail me, if you're serious about showing.

Other than that. Merry Christmas, because, stolen or no, if you mean it, when you say it, it's all good. Love you guys.

Dream Well

A candle, and a notation. Things we miss, and times of joy. (778)

In D.C. wandering down Jay street, with my mother, talking about buses to Catch, to get where we're going. She has to take the 95. I have to walk.

I'm in some city that doesn't exist. I'm at a college, and i'm coming out of my German class, getting into someone's car. We're upset, at something, in the class. The place is a mixture of Philadelphia, D.C., and Atlanta. There are steps, in front, and a convertible.

I'm on a soccer/lacrosse field, and there is some sort of ren-faire going on, off to my right. There is a cop, there, and all of the people are coming closer together, mentally and physically.

There is an investigation, at the school, and there's this detective, there, and he's wandering around the grounds, part of which is like the side of Luke's house. There is police tape, everywhere.

I'm leaving the school, again, this time in a bus, of some sort, or a van, and we're trying to escape from some people. We pass by a Shriner's hall, and there is some kind of Pun, in the name. It belongs to a man who is Woody Allen, George Burns, and Benny Hill, all in one person.

I'm in a field, and it is covered in Ice. I'm Hardy/Abbot. The guy with me is Laurel/Costello. We're going ice fishing. We setting down the gear, and starting to dig the hole, when Laurel/Costello looks over to his right, and sees a tree full of Snakes. He is pulled in, and this part is very hazy, but he becomes one with the tree, and loses himself. I start to run, turn around, and approach the tree from the left. I start to get pulled into the tree, and the consciousness of the snakes, but i resist, holding on to my individuality. I pull L/C out of the tree, and we're both covered in mud. We start to run toward the school, again, and we are trying to pull off the muddy clothes, at least the top halves of our overalls. We come out around some shrubbery, and there is a detective, there, and i know him, and everything about him, but he doesn't know me. I say "Hello Detective. How goes the case?" And he says that it's Fine, and he seems to recognize me, a bit. He's about to stop me, but we round the oner, and are gone. L/C asks how i know him. I say "He's The Detective. I know him."

Flash of the masonic temple, a spiral drive way, in front, Vox people, school people, and the Walk, with my mom.

I remember those dreams, because they happened in the 10.30-2 sleep i had. Not the others. 6.15 - 8.30. 9.30 - 10. I got a copy of "Silence of the Lambs," book form, finally, and "Black House," and "Talisman." I also got "12 Monkeys," a book on money management, a new Mozart CD, and a bunch of Shirts, and some cash, which is good. I got other people things, like jewelry, and things that they will enjoy. I never know what to buy people, or to tell people to get me, unless they ask (either party), in a specific vein. CDs, Books, movies, etc. So i end up giving them things that instinct says they'll like.

I need water.

The Neverending Story is on Sci-Fi, and i need to get offline, and go visit my Dad. I'll see you all later. I'm sorry that today is a day of pain, for some. *licks*

Dream Well