Dreams and daydreaming are the next best things to writing. Where else can you drive an Aston Martin down a road and crash into things and run over mail boxes. Knowing there is no power steering and the chassis rides on the road like driving on black ice? “I don’t remember the car driving like this before?”
Waking up to dream reality, you find that you are calm and lying on a circular bed, just like the one in Casino Royale with Peter Sellers and Ursula Andress, but you are the gal and Ed Kuepper is the escaped convict. You look at him sideways with one eye and he is looking back at you. Then you find yourself walking out a door and into a mansion. Donald Trump is having a party where everyone there is wheeling and dealing. Yet, you sit down in front of Donald and he sells you that 1961 Aston Martin for $2000 dollars. At this same time you realize that his desk is unorganized as he reaches for papers and a pen, but nothing is where he can find it. Regardless, his manner is sweet and holds calm etiquette.
You notice seeing the lovely Tequila Mockingbird, Alice Braun and Pleasant Gehman sitting on a balcony over a large parking lot of fresh fallen snow. At this moment you calmly ask them a strange question, as you float by,
“…If you could go back to 1979 all over again, would you?”
Two said yes, the other no.
All of a sudden you find you are in a monorail. A special ride. This monorail turns and rides into the ocean. Like a big giant snake it goes diving down into the water, then up again, then down again. It becomes something else.
YOU are now in a hologram underwater in a transparent submarine. You feel calm. A big fish swims up to you and you realize it is the fish cartoon you created, with pencil and ink, months ago, it says
“Hi, how are you?”
This does not explain the deep feelings, longings, humor, and forgetfulness of your oscillating mind. As when you get out of the Aston Martin and realize that it was falling apart and there is steam coming out of every end. The bumpers are demolished. The car looks like an accordion.
When a man comes up to you and calmly states, “They don’t make them like that anymore!” You think, “Well, maybe I should have had a car person look at it first before I bought it from Donald?”
Then there are the day dreams…
While staring outside into your garden, you notice large monoliths coming down from the sky. About six feet tall and about 4 feet wide. Perfect and triangular. Black as the night without a moon. If you look long enough into these black onyx shapes, stars shine forth from the deep darkness they possess. They are firm silent statues in your garden. You notice the seven monoliths all day and so do the cats. Yet, no one else does. Slowly they move into the earth until they are covered and gone.
Or looking out of the computer widow in a trance, where your day-dream begins hearing loud sirens screaming, like the ones in golden ancient myths. You also hear church bells ringing and the sounds are coming closer. You felt calm now you are feeling heat palpitations. You notice monks in black robes with white braided cords around their waists.
They are walking down your street. They are ringing their large bells in their hands while screaming their siren screams. The wind is blowing and the sound of truck engines melt past you. You notice their large loud mouths open as they parade past your house. What are they heralding or why have they come?