I havent figured out how to get a subject into these posts yet.
But I had the trippiest dream last night
I was in some real nice, clean, safe, polite society and people grew shit like tomatoes and onions and potatoes and stuff in their front yards just as surely as they did flowers. And if you were hungry there like, well, take one young man.
I went “this is a really fucking cool idea.”
And so what stops some punk from swooping in and stealing your garden-
“everyone does this, its everywhere, theres enough for everyone.”
I go into town a bit and I think Mexico colored this experience because in Mexico everyone has a folding table and there selling something but on this one table there is nobody watching or nearby and they have doughnuts and I want one. I wait for awhile. I just say fuck it and steal a chocolate one. But you see, i am a klutz too so I drop a white one on the ground and feel bad. Im not going to put it back in the case for someone else to eat, I am just like ok whenever I see this person I will pay them for both.
I never see the person.
Then I am in a very old run down house somewhere, the house is familiar to me and its nice, its sort of a duplex maybe arguably a triplex but the very top floor isnt in such great condition and has not been rented in forever. I pull a key out of a lock and examine it and go, well- (for reasons I will not mention, I recognize the way it is cut and numbered) i live here or this is my house I guess (?)
Someone wants to rent this top floor and I am going through it, and someone had lazily painted the hardwood floors with grey deck paint , most of it had worn or stripped off back to the hardwoods but they were all permeated with this grey deck paint and I eyed it disapprovingly. I would have stripped and finished this.
I tell them I will rent it the way it is for a very low price like 300 a month. I say that in my estimation it needs a do-over , and you can either take it this the way it is, or I can fix these floors and make it very nice but I will have to charge more.
I find a bad spot in the joists and go “ah fuck, I am very sorry, I cannot rent this to anyone right now. this floor has to be pulled up, these joists have to be replaced, this not safe and I did not find this until just now.”
But whatever, its a dump, its falling apart, but I feel like its my place and I like it and sure, I will replace the joists and sigh … its like it has been neglected for a long time.
People come and talk to me, its like we meet at the root chakra and merge and youre on one side of a world or a void and im on the other and this is the only way we can meet in the middle and talk.
I do not remember everything , I dont want to do this at first but if I encounter enough of these people you know I am going to strike up a conversation “just because.”
They’re nice enough.
The last woman I spoke with, she asked me “do know why you are on your side of the divide and not ours?”
I said “I don’t know. Maybe theres a reason I cant be on your side, I wont live or I will die sooner or something-“
She is very very nice lady. She smiles and tells me, “no, that is not the reason.”
That is all I remember