Thinking thoughts...

Tool - Stinkfist--- Don't forget: Party on the 22. I'm going to keep interjecting that, so people know.

Anyway, I've been having a lot of really strange Coincidences, recently. Coincidences, synchronicities, and simply neat occurences. I've been complimented on my leather trenchcoat, no less than three times, since being in DC. This compared to the None i was receiving, before. I don't know what that signals, if anything, at all, really, but it's lead to me feeling a lot more comfortable, with myself, in general. Feeling more me, and more... At home. Which is strange, for me.

I've also had this intense sense of impending doom, for the past two or three days. That Staring-At-The-Back-Of-Your-Head, Just-Over-Your-Shoulder kind of feeling, like you'll turn around, and there'll be some guy with a fucking huge axe, or some shit, and then you have to jam a pen into his eye, real hard, and run like your ass is on fire, and then, three days later, the cops show up and ask if you've seen the Kindly Woodsman™. (Tool - Eulogy). This has not been helped by the fact that, twice, since i've returned from DC, there's been a silver Mitsubishi, at the stop sign, across the street. Just sittingthere, for long periods of time. But wait: There's more.

People have taken to sitting outsidde of my job, staring, and writing notes, while i work. This is... odd, when my Co-worker, the tiny, mundane conservative, notices and tries to bring it too my attention. Paranoia, as i said, runs rampant. I'm... Not quite done. I had some visitors, yesterday.

Three people drove up in a light blue Oldsmobile luxury sedan. Older. The car And the people. In their later 30s. They said that they were "Just passing by while shopping, and wanted to stop and take a look at the house." Then the lady says "It's a very nice house." "Yes it is," I say. A pause. "May I come in?" She asks. "Not right now; have a good afternoon," I reply, not missing a beat. I turned and walked back into the house, fully expecting to be shot in the back, or descended upon, as i went. This freaked me out, a bit.

I've been having dreams, about explaining metaphysical and spiritual things to people who need to know them. Things Like the nature of Triva, Goddess of Pathways. I had to explain to this guy that , while at the Crossroads, she could ask you any question, and you had to answer truthfully, but that the reverse was also true. (Tool - H.). In the course of my explaining this, to him, i start a description, and the description is of an old man, with a grey hodded robe, and a long white beard, driving a horse-drawn cart, to a crossroads. I start describing what's in the cart, when i stop, realising that i'm describing Technology, now, and not Trivia. But i also realise that they are, some how, inextricably linked. Don't ask.

I've been dreaming about epic battles, again. Because all the fighting, in my life, is ideological, or time-based. They play out, in my mind, subconscious, as epic, grandiose rampant destructions. I was the evil, last night, and the good. Good guys, bad guys, and i was both. He-Man, and The Ultimate Incarnation of All Evil. But He-Man wasn't... It was strange. Things to think about.

I want to work on things, again, have the time to devote to my changing the world and all reality. To that end, i saw "I Heart Huckabee's," tonight. See the movie. It has Existentialist and Nihilist Detectives, and is one of the funniest movies i've seen in a long time. (Tool - Useful Idiot). Great philosphy, and practical applications, as well as a great story, with awesome comedy. (Tool - Forty Six & 2). Intertwined. Good.

Anyway. I'm done, now. Party on the 22. Costumes if you want.

Bye.

"You don't want to hear about my good day.."

What i remember of last night's dreams.

I'm in some sort of military unit, but not, at all. There is the feeling of a Buffy Episode, crossed with a Woody Allen movie. We are setting up a fight against a group of orcs who've taken over human bodies, and we have to infiltrate their base, and spy around, and get out, before things go to shit. The funny thing is, their base is part of our base camp, and we end up lurking around, next to rocks, and trees, out front, and hiding in secret passageways, into the facility. I've sent someone off to find the woman with whom he is in love. There are long shots of the hallways, and the ceilings of the facility.

We're standing outside, and the encounter/war/whatever is over, and both teams are totalling up their points, and i'm waiting for the kid i sent off, to come back. The General and i talk (old guy, gruff, Classic general), and we coem to the conclussion that he either A) fdied, during the mission, or B) Found his girl, ran off with her, and lived happily ever after. At this point the entire scene starts to feel like a Franch New WAve-inspired arthouse love story. I turn around, and walk the other way. I walk up a ramp that, though it's outside, leads thrrough a set of corridors, like a walled city

A feeling of wandering through this, talking to people. Talking to Lilith, and mech_angel, about the things that are needing to be done, and how much they fucking suck.

Some other things happen. I wake up

I kept waking up, this morning, after pretty much every section of dream, for a few seconds, at a time, and then making myself go back to sleep. Very strange. More with the war dreams. Again. Finished Oryx and Crake. It was really good. Traditional postmodern sort of "Possibility and Choices" ending, but, as i think on it, i become ok with it.

I'm going to go get ready for work. Later.