Writers of the Apocalypse * My Music
Thursday, May 5, 2005
dream
Damn if I can't recall all of my dreams last night. THere were a lot of people in my dream, and we were doing things. Talking, moving around, walking.
And the jerk was on a bench - probably the church pew in Boomtown - and I sat near him and lay my head in his lap. He was dressed in old time clothes one would have seen on a royal person of a mixture between the Oriental lands and my own: flowers and embroidery. I was there, and my hair was in braids, and I lay there as he sat and let me. THen I thought that I'd been there too long and sat on the floor by his side with my arms on the pew to prop my head up.
And the others came and wouldn't leave him alone. I thought how no one ever gave him a moment's peace. "Even me."
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