Good night, Book.

Work on the book is at a stage of looking back over old writings, taking notes, re-arranging things... It's not an easy thing, by any means. I have to take it one step at a time.

It's not easy becase I'm trying to find that line between the burden of coming up with all new material-- new ways to say the things I have said, already, a few times-- and the danger of getting bogged down in the old ways I said things. If I don't think of new ways to say things, I'll be extremely tempted to just let it lay. If I try to think of new ways to say things, I'll be so busy doing that, that I'll possibly miss something I said, a log time ago, which could have a useful place.

I know that it would be easy for you to say, at this point, "Find The Line Between Them; Do Both."

Know that it would be just as easy for me to hit you in the face, really hard.

I think-- and I shudder, even as I think it-- I think that i'm going to have to re-read or at least Skim all 6,276 (soon to be 6,277) entries, in this thing. To make sure I don't miss anything. The danger, there, is in becoming despondently nostalgic. Losing the thread of the work in a sense of "What was I thinking?" or "Where is that passion?"

One step at a time.

I have a schema. I have a plan. I have a cogent frame of reference for my thoughts.

I have to go to bed, before I stay up all night, thinking about this, and over-processing.

There are open seats in the conference room of the dream theater, if you want to help me sub-process this, for a few hours.

Dreams, so far: Frozen Saltwater, Cataclysm, Multiversal Space Ghost

Dreamed about a long bridge made of a red-coloured wood, stretched over a salt water lake. The lake is frozen, and the bridge has been repaired, and disrepaired due to some cataclysm. Because of the kind of lake, I know what has happened, where we are, and that we have started fixing this bridge. There is no one around, for miles, except me and the group of people I'm with. wacko1138 and photogirl630 are visible, as I stand on one side of the bridge, but as I move across, with someone, something shifts and the bridge sections start to shift. One falls forward, across, and through the gap between it, and the rest of the bridge, as my partner walks across it. Luckily we are on the sections right next to the other shore of the lake, so she's able to land on the beach, and not the partially frozen salt water. From where I'm standing-- on the other side of the gap, somehow-- I can see ben_templesmith on the far side, the side from which I came. I go to jump back across, but I miss, as the section arcs downward, and I fall into the frozen salt water lake. It isn't very deep, and so I walk, swim, and scramble my way up the bridge pylons, back to the other side.

On the other side, again, the side from which I came, and there are people and a tree at the place where the banister and the wall of the building meet, off to one side, around a balcony. Facing the bridge, the balcony would be off to the left, and it would be around a corner. Walking to it, I know that there are bees and wasps, in the tree, but I also know that I can approach it in just the right way to keep them asleep, so that I can get to the various fruits on the tree. There are blueberries, strawberries, oranges, some fruits that I can't immediately recognise... And there are pomegranates. They are not quite ripe, and I know this, but I want them. I pick two, and walk back out into the main area, where people are waiting for me. I start eating the seeds, and passing them out to people, while trying to discuss what our next move is. We are some sort of post-societal clean up clan. We're trying to make sure that A) the things that are left will be useful and workable for whatever comes next, and B) what we're doing is not going to make things any worse. As people trail off into their own work, and I look for mech_angel, who I think is inside, Ryam comes up to me and says "You know those are rotten, right?" indicating my pomegranates. I look at them, recognising that the seeds have been covered in a slightly whitish, pith-like membrane, but I know that this means that they haven't been ripe ENOUGH, not that they are rotten. I ask him what he means, and he tells me that they each had holes in them, drilled by wasps, and that those holes rested up against each other, in the sun; they're no good. I check the outer casings, again, and find nothing wrong with either of them, but I still seriously contemplate throwing them away, just to be safe...

It's summer, even though the lake is frozen.

I'm in the seating area, near the tree, but it's full dark, now, and/or fully covered, with no side exposed to the lake.Around the table, with me are iterations of Space Ghost, variations on the psychological and morphic resonance of Space Ghost, through and across different permutations of the multiverse. Not having an Infinite table, I knew that I should seek to find the Archetypes of the Archetype, the major themes that cropped up, and around which minor variations were built. I start pulling them out of their seats, around the long table, lifting them up and moving them around, arranging them, chronologically, along the timeline of their divergence, both from central Space Ghost Core, and From Each Other. Certain positions get switched around, constantly, because they were concurrent, over-determined divergences. People ask me what I'm doing, and after they kind of understand, they ask why. All of the Space Ghosts tell them I'm starting a band. That sounds like a really good idea.

I'm rebooting several old band concepts, for cartoons, in the middle of the bar, including a band made up entirely of the Space Ghosts dressed as every "Flintstones" and Hanna-Barbera character. I think I'm going to reboot "Josie and the Pussycats" to make it less pop-punk than the movie, more Punk/Industrial. The characters will be real women, well-adjusted, but with flaws and failings, not overly perky dress-up dolls. Josie tells me she's scared of what it could mean, and I tell her it'll be fine. She reminds me of a girl I knew, in college, and she kisses me, and I go back to drawing up the plans for this larger show which will integrate the rise and perhaps fall of a few cartoon bands, before settling in on two main ones: The Neputes (JabberJaw would be someone in a Shark Costume, on Stage, and the band's leader, the one with his head on straight, off-stage) and The Pussycats.

Something else happens, and I don't remember what.. I wake up.

Oh. Hello Dreams. I'd missed you.

Anyone want to give an interpretation, because there are some not-good implications, there, from where I sit.

Also? It's now too late to go back to sleep. Oh well. At least I got a passable sketch of the bridge/balcony/tree area...

Time to go eat some damn food.

Work: Now with 100% more Car Fires!

So I saw a car catch fire, at work, today. It stayed aflame for a good 15 minutes, before the firefighters got there. It was pretty amazing.

This was also the only interesting portion of my day, aside from reading, dinner, and other assorted Home-Things.

Anyway. That's about it, aside from the fact that people who patronize the store I worked at, today, have almost universally shitty taste in music. Almost.

Good evening.