I wake up every day and roll back asleep. In that time I dream. Today I was in a large Aztican temple-like complex. I walked through passages with some purpose. I remember seeing Jules, Jeff, maybe Alec at this strange Oberlin gathering that involved dancing in one room and arcade games in the other; I've had alot of dreams about people from Oberlin recently. I then remember walking through passages until I came to a room with sun slits on the sides near the ceiling. There I slipped off my sandals and meditated...yet I was being searched for by something. I concentrated, trying to put on my sandals so I could leave into the surrounding woods. Then a figure came. His face was hideous, creased and twisted like tanned dough. Yet past the obsession that lingered in his hovering, I felt like it was genuinely concerned with my leaving. I have emotional vampires like that in my life. Mediocre friends they are, but yet they teach me things, which is most important I suppose.

Right, my waking life. It's elegantly simple. I find my mother or grandmother waiting when I leave bed, eagerly asking me what I'd like to eat. They always leave the choice to me in matters, which I've gotten better about with years. After that we come back and I either play games or read until dinner...and then do more of the same until I sleep, maybe watching a movie or two and a handful of documentaries. It's all gluttonously tranquil and pleasant. Yet, I do some odd jobs here and there, like my impromptu construction job with Scott on putting together a 10x20 canopy thingy.

Ah Scott. He's been my mother's boyfriend for...wow, 6 years now I think. He's quite possibly the most ADD person I've ever met. He'll sleep for a day or two at a time and then be up for three straight days. He's an eccentric genius in a way. Did alot of drugs as a young adult to slip away from the think tank bloodhounds in the FBI and NSA. I think it's partly because he's from an incredibly prestigious family and did alot of amazing stuff as a kid, including helicopter piloting, setting up a consulting firm on top of being a damn impressive broker, luge lessons in Rangoon, you know normal stuff. The two of them make an odd couple. Kinda like me in that regard: having a partner is nice, but the baggage couples develop is unnecessary horseshit. Really, the only time two things should become one is if your mixing a drink...and even then most combinations are liable to make you vomit (whether you drink them or just look at them from afar). I know, I know, but it makes me laugh.

I'll get to responsible stuff in a few days. I'm just enjoying the bliss for now. Hm, I think Dickens had it right when he said smells ignite memory and emotion like nothing else. I walk along the edge of my home, trees with red pine needles and yellow clumps of powder sending down a familiar woody bitter scent. In the back is a long trellis built onto the brick wall divide, overflowing with jasmine that lingers along rusty chairs and carved rock tables. Everything about my home and the area is enchanting somehow...and for some reason the scents seem to capture what it feels like to be free and sane.

I terribly enjoy freedom and sanity. I think I'm entitled to indulge for a tad longer.

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