>intravenous "We have scorched the snake, not killed it.She’ll close and be herself whilst our poor malice Remains in danger of her former tooth.But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams That shake us nightly. Better be with the dead, Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave. After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well. Treason has done his worst; nor steel nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing Can touch him further..." bronze star with a v and the purple hearted mueller... In very simple terms, the Müller-Lyer illusion is a trick played on your eyes where two lines that are exactly the same length look like they are different lengths... I hear talk of floods along with all the other foolish speaking which the internet makes impossible to miss. imagine that, waking up to glance at a story telling me that sheridan gorman is dead. i know, i could insert immigration rant herein, but let's go to wyoming; " a trooper was attempting to put a black Angus bull into a fenced area, at around mile post 3 on Wyoming State Highway 338, aka Decker Road. The bull entered the roadway, crossed the center line and into the southbound lane of travel. Eighteen year old Laylie Laumbach was driving southbound in her vehicle on the highway at around that time and collided with the bull. The Patrol says Laumbach was unaware of the situation, and after the collision, her vehicle went off the roadway to the right, drove through a right-of-way fence, and came to an uncontrolled rest against a tree in a river bottom. Laumbach was wearing her seat belt, but did not survive the crash..." exactly six months and sixteen days before loyola... a Query arises over sisters' titles and place in line of succession; Beatrice and Eugenie... knowing that it was merely over accusations involving prince andrew seems a terribly irony. i know, some and even many will rave against my nonchalant stance yet contrast other andrews; cunanan or urdiales...more to the point, more to the point president jackson owned over three hundred slaves yes his descendants yet retain a repected place in Tennessee... where was i, ah yes, they usually call them administration prefaced by what could easily be mistaken for the roman numeral four; filtered, vented, non-vented, gravity tubing...i think all of them can be either micro or macro drip...a common brand is wolf-pak. the institute of animal behaviour now says ravens memorize wolf patterns instead of the incorrectly accepted fact that they follow or track them...i had just learned that crows are capable of memorizing faces and even informing others in the murder who had not seen the countenance in question...no bird in dream - 'sunflower you were never no locomotive' - sutra means thread but in a sacred sense - i felt there was something holy about 'the madison' as it was a near perfect balance of lightness and dark...early on there is an incident which is not fully resolved, one could expect several outcomes - later, even after it has all been detailed, a recording is played - i cannot say how or why but it felt extremely powerful - i wept with a wild sense of emotion...in my dream a thin woman is sitting on the floor, she is touching herself...i am not sure if it is erotic - the space is brightm sterile, i sense a man near or next to me - the face is familiar and perhaps i have mentioned it herein, but later it seems clear he is either a doctor or a nurse, maybe i am what he is not - the thin woman is now on the bed - getting up from it face up with several iv administrations attached, i am looking at the tubes more than her, another woman gives her some sort of cream and again she goes into a motion as if playing with herself, all sorts of thoughts race through my mind, movie quotes and poetry, if it was a tape and i could slow it down i might be shocked at the lightning speed of it all...it's most likely that i need real conversations but that is another matter - in the dream the thin woman is now returning to bed but face down with the tubes dangling and herself in a slithering dance navigating into position...i put away my alien white strat and brought out the mustang - cleaned up some instead of playing however...did get some lyrics done but i find that having a dedicated room for recording although right down the hall feels as if i am going to a distant land, i was surely in a distant land attending a david bowie concert - the music started - a woman turned around and lifted up her tee uncovering tits - lotta is standing next to me on my right side as if to not be outdone raises her own covering to display her left breast - a cousin did that once i recall upon waking - i am not sure what it was all about - i haven't even played million dollar bash in some time; 'come on, sweet pea and don't forget to flash - we're all gonna be there for that million dollar bash...' i think it goes although i get it mixed up with 'you ain't going nowhere' if i am sitting at the keyboard instead of holding an axe - although once in a while even holding the six string nothing filters through the static of anti-song sensation...'—We're not our skin of grime, we're not our dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we're all beautiful golden sunflowers inside..' dream before these dreams, a bunch of babies...normal human infants - lined up perhaps in the same multiverse space where instead i am either a doctor or a nurse - one of them starts speaking the way a baby never does - it seems to be giving the rest of them instructions - i can't hear what the words are -possibly too distracted by my thinking it is a miracle or a being from outer space...the name in the recording was stacey - resurrection or steadfast - way too late i later recall my experience with a girl named like that - for some exotic reason we were playing basketball one on one - in other words a treasure of innocent enchantment i had not embraced in a long while yet full well know i will always love...as it should be - the point of life, a moment lived entirely dedicated to the very moment. i hope everyone gets a few like i have and might still find and i hope stacey gets many more than myself. 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