4/8/06
Jesus fuck it's windy!
mom
Completely unsolicited and reposting it here without her permission. Weird formatting and all. Why? Because I don't have much to write besides the dream. Also I don't feel like I'm violating any privacy, it's not like you, gentle reader (PBUH), can figure out her identity.

...i have a lot of things to learn at my new job
so i have been busy
it used to be "..21, house, car, baby..." but that was a different
generation
from what i have gathered from my friends, people live their lives first
and start the "..21, etc..." in their late thirties or early forties
i guess all those divorces during the 70's and 80's took their toll on the
families involved
friendships require a lot of maintenance and a lot of contact
seeing people, talking to them, e mails, etc
without that connection, the small daily changes are not noticed and they
add up over time
some friends last a lifetime, others have their time and place
that's just the way it is

i have trouble understanding blogs
people post so many things that can be misconstrued
why air so much personal stuff??
personally i have always protected my anonymity
there was a position posted and it had a name attached to it as a
contact
so i did a "google" on that person
i found her blog and my conclusion was that she was an air head
all the blog had was bs about shopping and clubbing and her friends
posting photos, etc
message to me was: don't bother with some little kid while i'm looking for
a job
i gotta go

love
mom

rebuttal
I disagree because one maintains anonymity by writing about things that other people consider to be irrelevant and boring and pointless. heptapod.org has been a factor in maintaining my mental hygiene and I believe that honesty is far more important than privacy.

Also I'm an attention whore.

Not that she reads heptapod.org. She told me so when I called home on Tuesday.

In Yer Dreams
Circumstances had me transferred to a planet circling a purple star. Now I'm unsure if the star was a true purple or if that was the color of the star as it rolled along the horizon. The color ranged from #FF66FF, #CC66FF and #9966FF. My location was at the polar region of this world and the sun never rose higher than two fists but it never truly set leaving the region in perpetual twilight. Reckon that the polar regions were the only human-habitable areas since it was swampy. Reeds grew taller than me and grew thickly throughout the area. No trees, just reeds and grass from horizon to horizon. Now and again one would run across meadows but these meadows were simply places where the local flora never got higher than a human's knee. A railway crossed the marsh and appeared at irregular intervals. Trains were the staging areas for the humans.

The purpose of my relocation was being enlisted or drafted into someone's military. Everyone was set in units of four, two women and two men. Indoctrination took place on the mobile train base. Between the reeds I could see brilliant flashes of blue-purple from folks communicating with each other. I had no idea if they were on our side or allied with the enemy. On the team was me, obviously, along with a big ugly black girl, a small pixie-ish girl with red hair and some cookie cutter guy who might as well have been a clone of anyone who'd be stupid enough to join the military.

Once we were off the train, the other guy decided to declare himself leader and claimed the pixie girl for himself. Fucker. I didn't even look at the other girl. Turns out that the military stuck with this kind of team because it kept everyone happy. Fat chance. A little later I discovered that the ugly black girl was a pre-op tranny. My blood boiled and I set up a small accident for the self-appointed leader. Fortunately the pixie chick wasn't that upset by his demise but she was a real prude or just unresponsive to whatever I tried with her.

Later an alarm was raised which sent everyone running deep into the alien swamp. That's when I noticed there were pages from a calendar on the ground and stuck between the stalks. Now I had to choose whether to pick up these loose pages and retain my memories or continue running to safety.

I don't remember my choice and right now I don't think it matters.

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