A long night, fevered dreams, more selections of unrelated images; that I'm in Tunisia (and thinking "this is where they filmed Star Wars!") and I find under the sand a giant quartz reef, all quartz, deep, beneath the dunes, and digging it goes deeper and deeper and there has to be something here.... I must be living in Europe, because I'm grateful I've found this so close to home...

...or I'm finding a layer of fluorite/calcite under my house, it's fractured, shatters out easily, but what can I do with this (and to dig it up is to undermine my house...)

... or I'm with people, a party, maybe I know them, maybe I don't, emotional associations, "Auld Lang Syne"...

The night passes, I'm in sweats, fitful, restive,  tossing and turning, too hot, too cold, fever, chills. I'm up at 9:00, I could sleep all day but I'm not getting better and there are things to be done.

The dreams, all bits, yet the overtones, undertones, create a story much bigger than the images they provide.

Which brings me to consider an old theory, that dreams, ideas, they live outside ourselves, our mind is but an antennae to tap into them, but - given my fevered state it's probably not the time to be giving this too much consideration, my thinker's a bit bedeviled at the moment...

 

(restless night, up, down, many dreams of which I only remembered the last)

That I was in the bookstore - warm, ambient light, exchanging a big bag of books, in which there's a 2 volume set of ...

The clerk (no clerk of the bookstore that I'm aware of) a large, good-natured woman gives me my total - some $670 - and I'm taken aback by the amount of the credit, and she offers to pay me cash and I say "no, no, I'll take the credit..." because I read, I'll read that this winter, and then I reconsider, the cash would be handy, I have bills, only now she's come to my desk (across the bookstore) and she's apologizing, that two volume set is actually a couple of guns in holsters, and she's not able to take them, setting them on my desk - and I'm surprised, sure enough, 2 guns in their holsters and so I take them out, quickly tuck them in a drawer, they're unregistered, I have no permits...

...and as she's standing there apologizing a bunch of police force their way into my area, they're looking over my desk, and I understand that she must have called the police when she realized her error, she's looking a little like she's betrayed me; the police, all in black leotards with white masks that resemble fencing masks, they look like the AI renderings of police in the style of Gorey I just did, and they're there, looking at my desk, and I know I'm in trouble and wondering how this happened...

(Low, slight fever, headache, cough. Frequent naps, bizarre dreams)

That I'm going to with S** to a party, customers from the restaurant whom I don't know. Cutting up streets, nighttime, through yards, it would appear we're in Edmonton, near the University. A big house, the party's in the basement.

And we go downstairs and everyone is gathered in a bedroom on a bed watching TV. I don't know anyone, but they all seem familiar.

The light, basement light, brightly lit in the halls, in the bedrooms, and I'm looking for S**, only I can't seem to find her, this basement is huge, made up of bedrooms, walking from bedroom to bedroom, excusing myself, going into the hall and looking for her again...

I think I spot her, then I recognize it's not her, it's a customer from the restaurant, an older, hippy lady, only now she's much younger...

I find her, and we're off, looking for a bedroom together....

S**, she looks the same as she did when I first met her, lithe, taut, she's arching her neck while I'm kissing her, I'm pulling off her tights...

Somebody walks past, older fellow, says he wouldn't mind giving me a hand with that, I look at him - he excuses himself, S** and I find a bed behind a transparent gauze curtain, we're continuing to make out, I'm pushing her into the bathroom so we can't be seen, she's in bliss and I can feel her clenching my fingers, she's dry, pulling them inside her....

***

(Wake up. Weird ass dream. I've not thought of S** for almost 30 years, sex dreams, rarely, why her, and odd that I should have such a detailed dream, and the tactile experience is unusual, the places, never what your recognize...)

***

Again, I'm in Edmonton not Edmonton, a sunny fall day. I've somehow worked myself into a store on the West side of town, it's a market styled shop, filled with 3rd world bric-a-brac, there's a young East Indian kid that's shown me in, I'm looking, they have watches, cheap, gold plated, but curiosities, one that has an I-Ching function, another with peculiarities to the calendar, I'm intrigued only they're all obviously cheaply made, China....

The kid's father comes out to talk to me, an older gentleman, as well East Indian, he introduces himself - "Pishna"?? - he recognizes me, knows me from someplace, wait, I'm "The Waiter" and he's now trying to give me his phone number, we should be friends, and I can see out the window of his shop, Edmonton, now, over autumn fields, I thought I was in town but I'm not anymore, this shop is somewhere on the outskirts...

***

(again, a discombobulating dream, neither bad nor good, just 'bleah' and defying interpretation...)

A few nights ago I had a peculiar dream of T*** (new waitress). That I was sitting with the in-laws, real neck-beard types, who were eating some sugar/crystalline dessert, and she was telling me we'd slept together and these were now my in-laws and that I had to run across town to get them a different dessert they wanted...

And I was arguing with her, explaining I was pretty sure I'd remember sleeping with her...

(It was weird, but after working with her last night I understood - she was fucking me (not that way) and getting all of the benefits, while I was seeing none...)