Thursday, November 21st 2024 Epic long, strange dreams. Had some smoko over at my bros house, some dispensary weed. Was informed it was 35% or 38% THC. Either way it tucked me in quite early so was able to pop out of bed at 11 AM, just about an hour ago. I tend to do my morning writing/meditations before anything. Yesterday went to Heinens for some decent beer and Home Depot for some insulation for Chicken Shack. Had $32 of credit at the Despot that received from cashing in discarded items in the trash still in the packaging. One item still had the receipt! Amazing what people toss into our landfill without a though. I just recently got an electric bike that sells for $1000. Needs new battery = $250. Might get one eventually or just sell on Facebook Marketplace. On the way out to ‘town’ as I call Avon Commons (and hate to go to) stopped over at my friend, Tracy’s house. I hadn’t seen her and Mike since I had finished building their deck over the summer. I did it super cheap as was just trying to make sure their mother, who’s health is failing, wouldn’t fall and break hip. She had a stroke and is still in the rehabilitation process. They will be taking her with them out of town for the holiday and asked if I would stay at their house and care for the dogs. Hell yeah! Been needed a job and any reason to not be here at the Inwood house I’ll take it, no prob! Not sure how much will pay, but will be staying there from Nov. 27th – Dec. 1st. Don’t have any photography gigs until Dec. 13th, so need something to fill the gap. Completely broke. I had put together a care package for her as she is recovering from breast reduction surgery. It consisted of a special cookie, about a quarter of weed, and some pumpkin seeds I made. Over the summer I gave out 24 plants, one to her. It was a nice one and her harvest came out very well, better than mine even as far as smell goes. I mean, she had one plant and I had 8, a variety of 4 different kinds. But the strain I gave her is the one I planted and disbursed the most amongst friends and associates. Unfortunately I have all this weed, probably over 2 lbs. that I don’t know what to do with. I could never possibly smoke that much even if smoked around the clock for a year. Lungs would literally turn to solid lead! And why would anyone want to be high that long anyhow? I enjoy having my mind sharp. Sometimes being completely sober is like having a high. Tracy is a bit over 60, I believe. With my dyslexia tend to forget ages and dates, sometimes even my own birthday and social security number. Phone numbers – forget about it. I find it interesting how this somewhat older generation is so chill now with cannabis, as if the stigma is complete gone altogether. But she is from California where it has been legal for eons. Still, Mike had to add that he jokingly (or not so) was telling neighbors it was a new kind of tomato plant just for safe measures. Since was a bit bakey and wanted to try to get up early to drive out to the Shack for a night (have to be back for John’s big clam bake tomorrow) had my favorite ‘flying’ dreams. It was a lot of fun and had to do with a cat, who’s soft underbelly I kept rubbing despite it talking to me saying I needed to leave the house for the owner, an angry rough looking man was coming home from work and would kill me – literally – for being there. That’s when the cat started to transform into a shorthaired blonde girl with bad acne. She was allowed to stay there and I started to put 2 & 2 together and got it. She, though super young, probably a runaway was allowed to squat there if she performed acts upon the man, which it was her choice, for she was at least 18, but sickened me and decided I wasn’t going to leave despite her pleading. But, finally, upon her wishes I said I’d exit out the window next to us in the loft. It was too late though, down below the only door opened and in came a small army of dirty painters and builders, for the man owned his own construction company, which allowed him to own such a large house. Immediately he started calling for his ‘kitty’ after throwing his tool belt onto the kitchen island. The other guys dispersed to other rooms in the house to change clothes and get to beer drinking and snort coke. I was in flying mode at the time. I love it when I have the power and in this dream had plenty of juice. Usually my flying ability decreases towards the end of the dream. I decided I’d leave and go fly around the main street downtown for a festival was in progress. Of course people saw me taking advantage of the free air space and I was doing full 360-degree loops. Sometimes I’d land and join the ground walkers, even at one point landing in the center of the parade and marching along with the band. But I kept having this nagging concern for the cat girl and what happened to her, so I eventually flew back and upon doing so got ‘caught’ by the angry scruff and he tried to shoot at me as I took off with his posse in pursuit. One guy had a hold of my leg and wouldn’t let go and suddenly I realized I was actually a vampire. I calmly explained to him that I didn’t want to hurt him, but would kill him if he didn’t let me go. He didn’t let me go, so I grabbed his head and with my supernatural strength caved in his skull. Then I took the knife he was wielding and gutted the other guy who was coming from behind before taking to the air with the scruffy guy still shooting at me saying I better never land. But you can’t fly forever in dreams and later I had to land in the street, into the mob of activity and in the perpetual chaos I turned just in time to see one of the man’s cronies who had just stuck a stiletto into my left lung, just under Jack, my tumor who lives under my armpit. Sometimes it hurts enough to wake me up, just as in this situation. I knew I had been seriously wounded, would probably going to die. Couldn’t fly anymore and I could not take on four more dudes, but could take out this one who said just before stabbing me ‘better watch your back’ so I pulled the knife out and with a Matrix type slight fly jump, using the last of my dwindling flying juice circled around while slicing and cut his head off completely to use as a makeshift shield to defend myself from the next assailant who was wielding a hammer. But it was too late, could feel my lung filling up with blood, which was making it hard to breathe. I knew the dream was coming to an end and I was going to die horrifically at their hands, so I chose to leave and awakened myself instead. It is interesting how the subconscious works, for I had also grown and given a tiny cactus for Tracy as an early holiday gift. She had shown me the piece I’d given her over the summer, a small clipping from a cactus I found in Kathmandu’s Monkey Temple in Nepal. A monkey had broken it off and I smuggled it back in a brass meditation bowl along with some yak ribs, jaw bone, and a mountain dog skull I found along the Seti River, for we took a 5 day kayak trip after summiting Everest Base Camp. I sent some of that cactus to one of the guys in California who had been on the trip and his flowered. I am too far up north for that. Canada is only 52 miles away across Lake Erie. Anyhow, the drought over summer really sparked these cacti to grow. Will have to leave one out over winter because I just don’t have the window space. Will see if it survives. Might break off a few pieces to dry out and replant, though propagation is not recommended for winter months. Not so say it is impossible, for I have done and am doing it with my Peruvian Torch, my psychedelic cacti right now. Sometimes, especially if you leave out during a frost, you’ll get blight and it either has to be cut out or cut the still good section off and begin anew. She showed me how well it was doing and I was pleased and said the two greatest teachers in my lifetime have been Lake Erie for ‘killing’ me, but the first was the cactus plant. It wasn’t Grandfather Peyote, like the tattoo on my right arm, the time I got to speak to The Maker, it was just a small cactus that I accidentally sat on when living in a Las Vegas trailer park when I was about 3 or 4 years of age. My Dad had to use a pair of pliers to pull each spine out of my bottom, one-by-one and every time I bust out the pliers to pull off a toenail I think about the experience. The lesson I was taught by the cacti is to always watch my back. In the dream I had not been watching my back and it cost my life in the end. This is a reason I had to move from Aspen after an incident outside of a gas station. It is part of my book, Eater of Dreams but I’ll let some cat out just for the sake of significance. Had just been to a club and rolled up for more beer and this guy is slapping his grabbing his girlfriend and slapping her around, so I went up to him and with a single punch broke his nose. It exploded like a ripe tomato. In doing so my arm came out of the socket once again and I couldn’t get it back in even when I tried to Mel Gibson it and slam it against the glass store front. So I go inside and there’s a Middle Eastern clerk and I ask if he will pull my arm so it will go back in, but he’s stated that he’s calling the police. I’m thinking great, I’m on the run from the FBI, hiding out in Colorado and now I’m going to jail for assault and they’re going to find out my true identity. Yeah, that’s all in my book too. Fascinating story to say least! Had to grab hold of the entrance door and yank my arm back into the socket. It had been dislocated in a car accident years before and I never went thru with the surgery until I was in my 30’s, when technology had advanced. Came out 19 times total in my life before that. But just as I got my arm forward it was being bent back as I was being put into handcuffs to be lead away. Was like, shit, there goes my camera gear…. But the girl I rescued came to my rescue and explained what I had done and as she’s doing so the guy is being loaded into the back of the ambulance and sits up screaming that I better watch my back, that he was going to kill me. I was like, great; I never even really got a chance to see his face in detail. Now I’ll be in a nightclub or something and get stuck in my liver. They let me go in the end, but I knew I couldn’t stay in town anymore, so grabbed my snowboard and backpack and hit the road once again. Ah, my crazy youth, my crazy life! Glad it is all over and can live productively, but still miss some of that adventure. Anyhoo, was not watching my back in the dream, the cactus lesson subliminally planted into my mind from talking about my teachers to Tracy. The mind is an interesting tool. The mind is also ‘you’ but at the same time does not make up you as a whole. And there is no separation of mind & body, nor body and the cosmos. Everything a massive conglobation of every changing/rearranging soup of molecules and energy. I often wonder how many times I’ve died thru the millions upon billions of years, as the carbon that makes this current physical is just recycled over and over again. Like, how many times have I been shat out, used as fertilizer only to be re-eaten? I am just me for this brief moment in time and it is interesting to give clout to the theory that every cell in my body has been rejuvenated at some point, set back to zero, so the person I was, that blonde haired blue eyed little boy with the sore bum does not even contain a single trace of the bald gray eyed bearded bum I am now….
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