>walnut although i have now more than a few guitars, one can only really play one at a time - i keep looking at them, window shopping as it were - i suppose it reflects my addictive personality however i've come to the point where i'm pretty sure - i'd only really want some more acoustics and in terms of electric well walnut...i reckon it goes back to my old gibson 'the paul' which i always thought was a les paul jr, yet in my hours of research i found the exact model...not sure over firebrand or deluxe, whichever one didn't have the pickguard...i liked it for being lighter than the les paul and not as common -strangely i am now attracted to the walnut rickenbacker 330 thinline but like a lot of gibsons the price is a deal breaker - one could visit several countries instead...for example... delta, two hundred dollars for a cat ticket, really? oh well, headline of the day; 'They are asked to be both Madonna and whore': Photographer Philippa James captures her teenage daughter's daily life on social media.. in a dream i am in a very organized space, like someone's secretary or assisant, it's a high contrast from my quasi-messy areas...tilbury is in ontario and that is what the envelope said...i awake lamenting the fact that there is no real postal service here - buildings don't even come with mailboxes! things are simply thrown on the lobby floor or pressed into the door gate. i guess they must have known about emails way before we did - i didn't know what to think as i dreamt some woman pressing her feet against my legs then as i switched positions they were up at my face and shoulders, looking up i see a woman crouched by the headboard and she seems possessed in a voice i somehow know is not her own - some deep rasp from antiquity i imagine and she is talking about needing or wanting to be the poet - it was too vivid or werid if you will and i couldn't think of much else for a while thereafter... standing later on some corner city dream with several others as another several others crosses the avenue nearing suddenly with firearms going off - have shootings becomes so commonplace that they have reached the point of collective fear in dreams - i hit the floor well pavement and try to cover myself behind a lamp post or maybe even some fat woman as i might have bben thinking it aint over till... awful fright awoke still trying to snuggle away from bullets in a fright - in retrospect i see it might have been a small blessing for lennon to have not known what he was facing as the shots came after he turned away because the knowledge of the thing in action could strike one dead even before penetration...pardon if the tone varied here or the point was lost - the lights went out and i had to complete this via jackery plugs - indeed speak of the devil - shoot out the lights - hmm, well, they are suddenly back as i saved and redeployed myself to conclude this...rain and the sound of rain - in my dream last night i was cleaning - a bunch of us were cleaning as if we had heard the chrissie song 'it's a clean up job everybody grab a mop'...i thought of the bang bang bar from fire walk with me - the cigarette filters crowding the floor. or was it the roadhouse...Jacques Renault was played by Walter Olkewicz i am seven days to note the fifth anniversary of his passing. "Hey, slow pokes... Guess what? There's no tomorrow... Know why, baby? 'Cause it'll never get here." [ This block remains static on load. Use the [ ACCESS ARCHIVE ] button in the bottom left to view the complete living document. ]