Jan 08 2009
day
So many dreams, and not one of them I was able to bring back through the portal into the land of waking. Tonight I’ll try harder, and the next night- I’ll put a book next to my head, a tape recorder, an etch-a-sketch. They just weren’t meant to meet, the two worlds- One is made of shifting clouds and flocks of birds, the other of good solid morning and minutes that pass with immovable regularity. My eyes are open, my brain is churning, and all I can think of is breakfast- eggs, salsa, brown rice tortillas. Forward, forward, my conscious mind is urging me forward, into the morning, into the day.
