Last night I dreamed that he had come back to life. He was dating a quite girl I went to high school with named Breannen. She asked me to kill him again. It's what they wanted. Breannen, some middle aged guy anthropologist guy, and him. He wanted to die. I met them all in a little room and Breannen and the old guy watched as I shot him in the head. I freaked out after that and started gathering things of his. I wanted to make it look like he had never came back but everyone knew already. I went to the chair and asked her if I could have the magazines. He had left behind a Life magazine. She said OK. She mentioned a game of chariot that he had given her. She said she used to play it in the seventies. I asked do you want me to give it to his girl friend and she said no. Then people were looking for his body in a lake.
I know that's a confusing dream especially to anyone who took the time to read it. It has been over two years now since my friend died and I'm still having disturbing dreams sometimes. How long does it take to forget a person? Well, never, I never can, never never never never so just ignore my occasional rants of self pity.

First I was at Tony's house. I went over to where he was at the end of this hall and some cop was telling him about how his partner had been murdered. Tony had red eyes. I told him you need a hug so I'm giving you one. He agreed that he needed a hug but just stood ridged when I hugged him.
After that I was in my childhood church. I was looking for an exit so I could put the groceries in my car in the refrigerator in my car. Then I was at UB at the CFA on the bottom level. I was taking a bubble bath in room that had glass along the side of the tub. I realized that I could see people passing by in the hallway. I got out of the tub and went to the hallway to see what the passerby's could see and they could see everything. I went back into the room and turned down all the lights and started getting dressed. I was about to take off my shorts and put on pants when a bunch of kids came in the room. One big guy who was familiar told me that they were looking for their microphone.
I grabbed my clothes and went down the hallway to the bathroom to finish changing. I got into a stall and sat down. I was fooling with the lock but it wouldn't lock. Some tall woman opened the stall door, saw me, and screamed. I screamed to. Carolyn Tenant in the next stall, said "Don't you just hate that." I took a shit after that and I was wiping my ass when people started pouring into the bathroom. Canadian Tom was in the next stall doing homework or something. I said to him "Don't you think you should let people use that toilet?" A young girl pushed her way into my stall, I said "Excuse me but I'm trying to wipe my ass." I made the girl exit the stall but then I realized that the walls of the stall were so short that it didn't matter. My problem was that I wanted to look at the toilet paper I'd just wiped my ass with to make sure I'd gotten all the shit off my ass but I was embarrassed to do it in front of people. When I was about to leave I looked over and Soyean and Ivan were in a stall together.

Tonight I took a bath and enjoyed seeing my boobies. They are nice and shiny in the water. I thought about how when my breast first started growing I would measure their progress by making or trying to make two little islands on the surface of the bath water. The older I get the tips of the islands get further apart.
I remember sleeping on my chest trying to stop my breasts from growing. I didn't want them but they came anyway and I guess I've learned to love them. Thery're squishy and I can titty feed a baby someday, if need be. I still don't like them that much. I always wanted really small tits but i got these instead, they flop around sometimes!

woW, I can't believe my eyes. There must be a foot of snow out there and I have to trek to the store to get cigarettes and laundry detergent. I'm cleaning this place up. Snow makes spring cleaning feel surreal. I went to bed at noon and woke up at 8. Its a decent schedule. I've gotta figure how to finish all the things I need to get started on.
I was on the net this morning seeking information about the teenage mutant ninja turtles. I had a crush on them but I was having trouble remembering which ones I liked. I remember hiding behind racks of clothes in Walmart fantasizing about hanging with the turtles in the underworld (sewers). It was great. I think I liked Raphael and Michelangelo. Raphael was a sour puss and Michelangelo liked pizza. Hey this link helps,http://www-scf.usc.edu/~nguyench/ITP104/Tables/Turtles.html#The%20Good%20Guys I liked all the turtles except Leonardo, he sucked.

I'm wearing green. I think that's what I'm supposed to do today. If you don't the kids will pinch you but I didn't wear green around the kids because I didn't realize the significance of the situation. I did drink beer until about 8 or9 do I guess I celebrated in my own way.
Isn't drinking called the well of truth or something like that? If truth exits from my mouth when I'm drinking truth must change every five minutes. I confuse myself with my statements. Keeps on raining, look how it's raining...
Hey, in my presentation of Friday I talked about elmwoodstrip.com. I printed out my journal and showed a video of Mawmaw telling tales and then I showed a book of Kentucky folk tales. I tied everything together with oral tradition.
I just talked about my own journal so I guess I'm selfish, this lateral thing, I have to stick with it. I just read the stories in my journal. It's story telling stuff. I read my Dad and my Grannies stories.
Showing the home video of my Mawmaw was the greatest. I turned around to look at peoples faces while they watched it. There expressions were mixed between confusion and unfriendliness. I thought that was funny. I didn't prepare to much but I had some genuine concerns concerning the content of Mawmaw's storytelling.
She's a little nutty but the sweetest lady ever. She tried to tell the story or Rawhide and Bloodybones but I think she forgot so she tells the story of her brother getting high on whiskey and hearing a ghost knocking around. This is what gets me though, she starts talking about a black man ghost searching for his big black toe.
In the book of Kentucky folk tales, Hell-fer-Sartin (this is the weirdo book terry stumbled across in my house) they have two of the stories Mawmaw was talking about one is Rawhide and Bloodybones the other is Big Black Toe. The big black toe story doesn't mach up with my Mawmaw's tale. The creature in the books tale is a creature with a tale, not a black man. The use of storytelling to install a fear of black men into kids is scary but I think that has been passed down to me somehow and I guess if it were not for video I couldn't analyze this occurrence so much. I heard my Mawmaw's version of the story when I was a kid. Stuff like this needs to be uncovered and deconstructed ... but nobody in the class has much to say about that... I guess it's just shit that doesn't belong in the public, hell, I don't know. I could have made people uncomfortable or maybe I was mumbling so much that a didn't get across my points.