early morning traffic groove

 

The 101 is jammed from LA up until my house, so I'm late to school this morning.  

It's either some kind of chemical spill or a big car accident.  Chemical spill sounds more exciting.  Biohazard.  Zombies.  Anyway.

I had weird dreams.  I dreamt the moment my head hit the pillow, I swallowed a strange looking pill.  I started seeing bright colors with weird paisley prints and lights, I was just tripping out.  Soon, the bright colors stop and I wake up in this weird house with people I've never seen before telling me to wait in the house for a little while, that people are coming to see us and it won't be too long.  I don't know where I am but I don't know where else I could go, so I stay there.  Soon, these helicopters and tanks pull up to the outside of the house, and the people tell me to get ready, because they're taking me away.  Soldiers came into the house and went through each room looking for people and when they found them, they grabbed them and loaded them onto the tanks.  I could overhear people talking and figured out that it was some sort of holocaust situation.  They were looking for people to take away and bring to camps. 

I run out of the room, slip past the soldiers, and find some sort of cellar basement.  There's wooden doors leading to the outside from the basement, so I climb up through them, just about to escape, and the soldiers are outside the door.  I'm caught.

The dream suddenly changes and I'm back at home.  It's been a year, and there's an envelope addressed to me on my desk that I've neglected.  I know it's been there for months, but I haven't opened it.  I pick it up and hold it for a little while.  I don't really want to open it, but I figure I should because it's been there for so long.

It's a memoir made of different slips of papers, with different quotes and sayings and different musings, little drawings, and things projected from your mind onto the paper.  

I read through each paper.  The ones at the beginning are almost irrelevant, and I wonder why they're in the envelope.  They're conversations with different people, things meant for others, writings not for me.  I keep going and going until I get close to the end, and I finally see my name written.

The message is sad, but it's nothing I didn't expect, so I'm not surprised.  I just read them over again and sit at my desk.  

I take all of the papers out of the envelope and walk over to my window, and I drop each paper out one by one.  The wind blows them away, and I walk back to my desk and pull out a new piece of paper.  The paper is blank, but I put it into the envelope anyway. 

And then I wake up.

School starts in 15 minutes!   I won't leave my house for another 15 minutes, though. 

In exactly a week from now, I'll be in Las Vegas for the hair show. We didn't really do much for ISSE, because we wanted to just mess around in the hotel room.   I'm excited for Caper, though.  It's going to be an adventure.

PS, good morning February.