The foundation being rebuilt. Each stone has been marked so that it will be the same as it once was. It’s kind of a three-dimensional puzzle with a few pieces missing and others broken and weathered so they don’t fit like they should.
One of the workers, at the end of the day, allowed me to ride on the side of his truck. Just like in Back to the Future but minus the hoverboard. Once I hopped on, I realized I was fulfilling a lifelong dream. A small dream but a dream nonetheless.
Some of my other dreams:
-Enter or exit a room to the USA chant.
-Be physically threatened by the teachers union.
-Befriend a wild wolf in the wild.
-Really piss off a large group of people and then relish in it.
-Someone says, “You are what you eat.” I reply with, “No, who we are is much more than that.”
-Someone says something about there being an issue with the roads and I reply: Roads? Where we’re going we don’t need roads.
Oh, and I’d like my last words to be: The pirate treasure– it’s buried…
I suppose Abraham Lincoln’s final words were of laughter, which is pretty good if you think about it. (And if you count laughter as words.)
Now if you look very closely you’ll see a happy dog sitting inside this massive collection of metal.
I think the dog is living out his dreams. Being on a farm and all. He also eats very well.
No work today and yesterday. Need the rest. My body and mind feel slow right now. Having some tea, Earl Grey, hot, at least, once it cools a bit. Dreamt last night about being lost in a maze. Hardly surprising. Though at one point I learned how to navigate part of it, but I guess not the whole, and I was able to aid other wanderers.
Maybe dreams are special. Or only some. I like the idea of assigning them greater importance. Too often they are dismissed. My comment here is not restricted to their potential usefulness either. Rather, to see them as equal to our waking hours– of having inherent value. Not identical of course but meaningful. They don’t carry the same cause-and-effect consequences–the weight– as being awake but, again, meaningful nonetheless.
I’ve held onto the memory of several dreams, some from an early age, and I treasure them greatly.
I remember hearing or reading somewhere that the reason dreams are deemphasized is because they cannot be monetized. Perhaps that’s a bit cynical.
Drove into the area’s big city to visit with a friend yesterday. Had been feeling low the previous day and this visit markedly buoyed my spirits. In fact, still feel better today. We talked for a time in his apartment, walked to a nearby coffeehouse I like to speak for another few hours, walked around town, and finally returned to eat pizza and talk some more. We also took the world’s shortest and steepest railway, which explains the above photo.
Below is a sculpture we came across. Looking closely, there is a banner reading Twilight Passengers. Don’t know what that’s about but I love the phrase. Sounds spooky. Brought to mind images of faint ghosts dining, dancing, and laughing aboard a decrepit steamboat working its way down the river. And if a living person boarded? Would they be allowed to leave? Or better, the unfortunate guest would decide to leave but become unable due to distraction and forgetfulness. A perpetual state of being about to leave.