The ongoing writing of a memoir in public has some very strange karmic effects. I wish to describe a dream I had last night that was so so real as to be almost indistinguishable from Real Life. Dreams are fictional reality, true romance, and the world is never the same after, as our quantum tunneling minds explore the multiverse and jump into alternate timelines. Rapid eye movement signals the branching of this way or that? with twists and turns that would make Shakespeare giddy.
I was on a great hill looking out over Creation, and there were all these people I used to know, but they were not the people I used to know. Covertly sharing secrets when I wasn’t looking, they all knew, which I did not, that they were my family from another life. But in the dream, we were having a big party, at the end of the world.
And then I found myself in the ocean, fighting with seaweed and this octopus was approaching me, its 13 tentacles grasping in the murky darkness for me. But Captain Jack Sparrow plunged into the abyss and offered me a drink, which I readily drank of, and then there was this strange fractal shimmering as reality cracked into a million little pieces.
We all danced and drank and banged on drums in a great circle on the hill, until the sun went down and darkness took over. Thugs and minions and dark demons hovered on the periphery, and I waded off into this swamp, stepping out of my canoe, then removing my clothing and casting them aside as I wandered into the fecund mists, never to be seen again.
But yeah that was just a dream. I woke up this morning feeling so thirsty, and on re-reading some of my past memoir posts, am feeling in a new world entirely. Perhaps ready to tackle the next chapter…
I need to apologize to new friends for betrayal that I’ve reciprocated in my infinite jesting, for what are promises but lies to keep? Still even, playing and getting lost in play is all I ever had, and I so appreciate the battlefield for it’s glory and love. Made a few dollar bills, ate some fine, fine foods, and can’t always get what I want, but I’ll tell you a secret: I’m getting what I need.
Sorry for going by one name everywhere. Jason, Jemini, Doug, and so on. My birth certificate looks totally real to me and I refuse to cast myself out in favor of some character or mask. This is the true story of a man whose memoir is this, and I will never hold back my truths, so long as it keeps revealing what lies beneath, and so long as I’m having this much fun, I will die trying.
[Oh, editorial note: I believe my site is being hacked. Might explain why comments never show up. Also today my home network is being hacked, the Airport Express router stuff keeps crashing over and over, so maybe no one can read my blog at all! Haha that would be ironic, don’t you think?]
More to come…