6230

Yesterday was filled with lots of movement and very little progress. L and I went to a friend of hers home for dinner. Good food, but a long evening with loud conversation over politics, war, taxes, and SS. I started buzzing out around my normal bedtime. This was especially true in that I had not slept fully the night before and didn't get to take a restorative nap in the afternoon.

Also in the background, I kept thinking about living space options and what I'm going to have to do to secure a place.

We were up in the hills, in an older home, but one that is cozy, comfortable, and had a view of the bay. H, the man who lives there, is a machinist/tool fabricator, among other things. The tour of his basement was astounding--metal-working lathes, a do-it-yourself home vacuum system, tools arranged in perfect order, a sauna that he had installed (really nicely done), a cutting tool for making clock gears, and on and on.

H and S make an unlikely couple in some ways; not so unlikely in others. He has a big touring cycle with matching helmets and gear. He's one of those people who can build just about anything they decide to make. Reminds me of my "uncle" L who helped raise me. He too was good with his hands and cobbling things together.

Dreams last night revolved around me revisiting some old projects and concepts. It was clear that we were looking over old ideas and examples. There was even some sections of material that had been lifted from earlier proposals and dropped into the current documents. There was an air of not wanting to do things again, and again. Of being tired of the repetition and similarities.

J was involved, including some of his old projects. There were a bunch of new people who were hounding us for details, but my heart wasn't into what was being done. Some of the new people were like Deepak Chopra as a young man with long hair--as a young turk. He kept coming back and looking at what I was doing as if to encourage me to move on with things. But, I was watching some cartoons and old silly movies. I knew he was there, but I ignored him.

I finished by round of antibiotics, but have a tickle in my throat that persists. Hopefully rest and low stress activities (walking) will chase this irritation away.

Tomorrow/tonight, I need to start moving ahead on finding a new place. Right now I just want to sleep some more, but will not just yet.
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General trepidation. Fear of the unknown, but the time has come for me to move onward toward whatever vague arrival point I think I may coming to. There are multiple manifestations of madness. Slow movements and the uncharacteristic smell of decay.

Huh? What? Where is this taking me? Why am I walking this path anyway. Spent a few quiet hours with L and her dog. She fixed a generous meal and I was able to staunch some of the leaks I seem to have developed in myself. But finally had to adjourn, leave and head for the library and the O. Henry award stories for this year. The formidable array of words by the talented best.

Meanwhile, I mope and drag. Flurry and bend. Make myself into a chaotic ball of considerations. As L and I and walked, we bumped into H, a person I've known from the past. He has a place next to J&T. Everyone has a place but me, or so it seems. People have made choices in the past that has led them to freedom. I've only made choices that have devolved, slowed me down, and brought me to a stopping place.

I am in a dark mood, one that is not fit for consumption, not meant for wear. But it is where I find myself this day, this evening, this hour. Solitude is soothing. It is quiet and peaceful until the world intrudes, until life expands to include the solace. So it is May day, the first day of merry month. And time to unrest, disinterr and wake up. The whispers of the silent vistas fill the air. There is a cacophony of noises, each triggered by some forgotten action. Choices have been made and I teeter on the brink of darkness.

In part, I was able to navigate the shadows until now. But my bearings are off. I am foundering in a storm I cannot see, in a tempest I cannot grasp. There are winds and zephyrs flying by my windows, pushing clouds like ships across the horizon.

I cannot seem to find purchase anywhere, or with anything. My grip weakens with each action. My soul empties with each attempt.

So onward into darkness, into uncertainty and mists. Like demons, the thoughts keep crackling in my mind, flaying back the layers of inattention. I awaken slowly, but I do awake. I awaken in time to dream.