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Vivid dream last night about CW line dancing. Music was playing and people were invited onto the floor to choreograph a dance as the music played. It was sort of like follow the leader. One person would start making movements to the music and others would follow. When it was my turn, I drew some waltz music. I began to weave a set of waltz steps into a pattern and people followed along. The sensation was a cross between a creative act and a teaching situation. It was energizing.

I slept late this morning. In part I did so because I wanted to sleep and didn't want to get up. Also was pulled to stay asleep by the energy of the dreams I was having. There were other dreams, but only the line dance one stayed into my waking state.

Weather remains gray, damp and cool. Finished the Morrell stories last night. Macabre final story that probably triggered dreams that I failed to remember. Twilight zone story with a dark and sinister twist -- If I Should Die Before I Wake... My "favorite" bedtime mantra/prayer.

World spins on today, with or without my contributions. Feeling like I want to keep moving today. Don't want to stop and be accountable. Want to keep moving and be unaccountable. The days stretch out in front of me like a highway leading to no specific place. Images of road and fields stretch out before my mind's eye. I see road and uncut grasses. I don't see other people or vehicles. No one passes me; no one comes at me. There is just the road and the movement.

Stranger danger. Danger stranger. What the wooly comes my way?
Got to run now. Need to run now. Cannot stop and cannot play.

Reminds me that I've been writing narrative elements and have not been adding to my "poetry" collection. Which then reminds me of my thoughts of creating a poetry blog, a 7th decade blog, and other blogs on other themes. Welcome to Bloggersville. My name is Will. Can't find a pill. The cat's standing still.

Why not? What do I have to lose? I'm only marking time and space as it is. Why not expand the scope of it all? Why not? Why knot? Why naught? No promises, but will ponder the possibilities, the scope of the quantum gap.

The universe expands to accommodate the available fantasies -- or some approximation of my friend B's (also G's, SD's, and other personalities) favorite saying. Had some thoughts around the topic of explaining where my blog name comes from. Will do so at some point and put it into the description box. Hint: Laran and StarThrower brought forth LaranStar. That's enough for most to ferret out a probable explanation.

Thoughts cascade all over the blog-o-space today. I imagine thousands (millions?) of blogger citizens sitting in their respective places, tethered to the Web, entering their thoughts, their ideas, their concepts, their dreams, their fragment of the whole. People everywhere, at all once, press the keys, click the buttons, add to the collected merge.

My thoughts retreat. They pull back like a snail pulls back into its presumably safe, but really fragile shell. Last night I stepped on a snail as I walked into the house. There was a sharp crunching sound as my shoe crushed the unseen creature that had ventured away from the safety of the flower bed in the dark. Is there a safe place for anyone, for anything? You may think so, but you may discover your snailness and become unnerved (or worse).

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Afternoon went by in a flash. A mix of chai, McNeil Report, rain, chiropractor, more chai, frittata, a flood of ideas, seeing people (B, M, R), and an aimless wandering that finally brought me back to my room/cave/suite.

Just lost part of an update to this post. Freaking computers. Maybe it had something to do with me editing the HTML--which I did and it seemed to work. That is, until the crash.

Spent part of the afternoon thinking about putting up other blog spaces--one for my poems and one for a flash novel (30 days, 1,500 words/day). About what? Not sure? Why keep agonizing? Why not just write and see what appears, see what emerges? As good a plan as any that I've produced. I put up a "poetry" site (StarThrower). Will continue to write here about my "dreams" and daily stuff, but will expand my sphere (or some other part of my anatomy) by following my muse. Or is it my bruise?

What have I got to lose except another 30 days? Why do it? Why not? Why? _?