Followers

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Recurring Themes

Had another dream last night of Kate and her kids and being in their house in secret.
This time the kids were older. Her youngest daughter, Molly was a teenaged lesbian. Her son, Seamus also a homosexual. Not sure about the middle child, Megan. Ken's old green wool sweater lay outside as if on display on a piece of modern art.
Seamus helped me hide. Everyone got scared when Ken arrived home.
I hid on the porch. Black hood covering my face. But I could still see out.
He drew near and I thought, he knows I'm here, I should just take control of the situation.
So I leapt up and screamed and ran away.
As I ran I saw there were army vehicles in the driveway. Gifts from Ken to his son, hoping to make him manly.
I ran up the hill. A cab pulled up. There was already another woman inside. The driver flashed a ten dollar bill and a five, communicating the fare. I agreed and climbed in. Then there were four of us women and I started to rile them all up that we shouldn't have to pay so much.

15
It's been over 12 years now since the end. Will something happen in three years?

A normal day at work. Trying to get work done. Interrupted. Blurting out the truth which was already known. Blurting out more. Such a Sagittarian.

After work, I went for a Hermanns and dinner at the Irish Pub. Female servers were dressed in red and black kilts.
The Butcher Shop man had no clients so lounged in a white chair by the window.
A Japanese woman walks along the sidewalk, reading a letter, smiling. Beautiful.
I get in the lineup at the theatre. Behind a butch and a femme. I wonder if she really is butch or she's going FTM.
Inside, I decide to get a drink and line up again. A cashier calls me over. Two others who were behind me get helped while he is still counting change. I leave and buy a drink from someone else.
The movie is brilliant. I feel like it's exactly what I would hope to accomplish if I ever wrote so there's no point in even trying or I'd just be thought to copying Kaufman.
I get home and there's a notice from the landlord. Two actually. One in the mailbox, one under the door. On the 28th, between 2:30 and 4:30 he will be entering suites for a "Routine Building/Suite Inspection"
Nothing routine about it as this is the first time it's happened.
Angry again at the landlord for this. And once again, the work that I've been doing to clean up and organize gets put on hold as I have to stop and hide it all. Which for me and my system of having it all out so I deal with it, is a step backwards.
I check facebook and there's a message from Kim and once again she ends by saying,
"Take care."
I now hate this phrase as she keeps saying it and each time it sounds like goodbye.
Or Take Care of yourself because I'm no longer doing it.
And I know this is unreasonable and probably means I've gone slightly whacky post-break-up.

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