> eclipticism i had gone into Kingdom of Fear: Loathsome Secrets of a Star-Crossed Child In the Final Days of the American Century by Hunter S Thompson after being horrified by Trigger Mortis - as i reckoned this had been put placed together from Ian Fleming's own notes - a bond novel that not only makes light of pussy galore but -brace yourselves- pits 007 with an obese homosexual...of course it might be an overreaction on my part yet consider the lack of logic in the race scene; the narration states that the driver is blinded by something scattered into the wind by the car ahead yet moments later it had the self-same driver removing not only helmet but goggles... in other words, there went my hopes for a "continuation" revival - where is the quality control!?!?!? i think of dreamt of a homosexual couple - it was a lift, they were flirting with each other - as i stepped out, i wondered where i was - like a warehouse, like a factory? i think i see lotta sitting in front of a mirror - the type of reflection device one might find backstage in a theater or on a film set...i recall an extra speaking of such a place, queens - apartment without walls inside such a structure - she seems to be trying to learn lines - there is a bit of conversation but in the way that people who know each other well don't really need too many words - i walk down to where it seems to be a rehearsal or filming - a woman in elegant gown is on the floor - i think it is alexandra and i crouch down empracing her legs with some sort of apology - i'm not sure what it was about yet i am sure that then i decided to leave - except i was suddenly dressed differently - i suppose it had taken all summer and fall and it was now winter - i wore a wool vest - a vest i had given away to a fictional character - i thought, oh no - my coat and headed back inside where i was now met by two bouncer type men that led me to find it yet there was a sarcasm in their eyes and i awoke feeling mistrust in them... not as bad as a previous dream wherein i felt judged..."I have a theory that the truth is never told during the nine-to-five hours..." it had been my second lotta dream in as many days - mother visited twice more - we watched one eyed jacks and then spoke about buddy holly as i played words of love and tried to explain it all to her by the fact that even clueless folks would know the scene by la bamba - and good golly miss molly even she could recall that one so ritchie valens and the big bopper and him now all made sense in her mind, i suppose. in another scene i am talking, asking questions i would most likely never dare ask - it's all very peaceful yet i felt profoundly suspicious after waking - as if having been probed - this followed the paranoid sensation of someone viewing one of my rooms...of course people are constantly filming their own or being filmed in the case of kingcraft... perhaps it was a side-effect... a sleepless night awaking in the afternoon - mother back in new york - i did as much as i could, yet i know i could have done more, well, maybe telling her about the book and the unwritten country song named Jesus Hates Bald Pussy made up for the mess and long hair.
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