Slipping away

 

I had some dreams, but they are slipping away. I guess that's true in every sense, not just in regard to my nighttime reverie. I'll try to work my way backwards, since, in my dreams last night, only the last one seems to be sticking at all, and it's breaking free even as I try to write it down.

I was in Lake Isabella, at Grace and Bill's. They had a larger house, and it was different: a bit darker inside, all the shades pulled down. As I approached the house from the neighbor's property to the east, I noticed some kids playing in a tree. The sun was going down, and I knew they'd be moving from that tree to one closer to the house, on Grace and Bill's property. 

I was expecting Rienna to be there, and sure enough she was. Or it may have been Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks, or just The Chicks, as they are now called. Damn PC everything. She was sitting on a bed in one of the guest bedrooms. I was glad to see her, but we didn't say much, just exchanged greetings, and that was all. 

I tiptoed past her to visit Bill, who was laid up in a hospital bed. He was in bad shape. I didn't say much to him either, except to whisper "I love you." He was on his deathbed, banged up from a motorcycle accident, just as he had been in real life. So sad. Grace was still up and around, though, doing something in the kitchen.

I went out the back door, possibly to go join the kids in the tree. Cory Allred was standing outside the door, blocking my way. I tried to push past him, but he made himself stiff as a board, putting his arms up in a cross on his chest. 

"Hi, Cory," I reluctantly greeted him. "We all knew you'd come out of prison hard as a rock. And here you are."

"Here I am," he said, smiling but a bit threatening still.

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Earlier I dreamed Daniel Levy and I were in some kind of gay relationship. I wasn't exactly happy with things, or he wasn't, not sure which. I don't know much about gay relationships, so it was kind of weird. He kept wanting me to "do stuff," which we never wound up doing, but I suppose was it was on the table, since we were supposedly a couple. I don't remember too much, so that's about it.

---

Oh, and I spent a good bit of time arguing with Adyashanti about the existence of a personal "me." He kept trying to convince me that "I" didn't exist, which I felt pretty sure was wrong, since I was the guy arguing with him. If anything, he was the fictitious one, seeing as it was my dream, after all.

---

In real life news, not much to report. I've had a few bad days lately. Between my piss poor attitude and complete lack of interest in life, I've also been plagued by one minor health concern or another. Nothing that should be crippling, but since it is me, I am just sidelined and useless. I went for an extra long walk yesterday to punish myself for not walking the previous day.

My AC vents are blowing unevenly, so I thought there might be a leak in one of the vents. I crawled under the house, in the nasty old crawlspace which has been the place of many of my nightmares, both real and imaginary. I couldn't find anything obvious, other than the occasional mouse poop on everything. The little bastards probably ate through the vents in a place that is inaccessible, the dead man's space under my downstairs room. 

As a result of the poor air quality coming from the vents (probably a whole mouse family living and pooping in there) I have more eye issues. Some kind of allergic reaction is making my right eye dry, and the lid is a little swollen. I've gotten pinkeye or some form of dermatitis on the eyelids many times, from many different irritants. So it could be anything. It's just coinciding with the AC being on for the first time of the season. 

And on and on it goes. My tooth is still cracked, waiting for me to bite down on something wrong and split it down the middle. Maybe it will just fall out. I don't know. I'm committed to death before dentistry. Unless the pain gets too bad, in which case, I'll be forced to consider another extraction. If this happens, I'll be looking into getting a partial. Two teeth on the same side of the mouth, not even adjacent, but in the same upper row -- yuck. Not a good look. Like an ear of Indian corn.

These kinds of things just make me feel like so much human refuse. Like a summer lawn chair that's only built to withstand a few seasons of use and is tossed out after the nylon straps erode in the sunlight, I am bound for the scrap heap, unsalvageable. Sure, someone could replace the straps, maybe polish up the oxidized aluminum, but why? There are plenty of new chairs out there, enjoying their short summer of newness in the sun. I'm not even fit for a homeless person, except maybe to take the aluminum in for some cash. 

My friend Richard called the other day. He sensed I was down, I guess. He tried and tried to give me encouragement. I didn't argue with him, but he wasn't really breaking through to me, either. He got emotional and started choking up at one point, like he was going to cry. 

He kept saying, "I love you, brother. I don't want you to ever, you know, do anything to hurt yourself. I hope you find that something or someone that makes you want to live again." 

He's a good egg. I told him not to worry, I was too lazy to kill myself. I don't know if it helps or not, to have people keep telling me not to kill myself. I think it just feeds into the whole thing. I'm basically staying alive out of a combination of guilt, laziness and fear, none of which are really good quality of life reasons for hanging around. 

I'm not going to kill myself today, so maybe I'll mow the lawn. After I exercise and make breakfast.