It’s a jungle out there today. The foliage is so lush that there seems to be a kind of prehistoric quality to the plants surrounding the house. The forest primeval is all around, just waiting for us humans to leave so it can get on with the business of growing. These damp days, when book pages curl in the humidity and just thinking too hard makes me sweat, are the cause of dreams and nightmares. In the morning when I wake up, I don’t remember what it was that I had been dreaming, but it had all been vivid and fraught with morphean importance. In the end, I woke up too early, and in the humid hours before sunrise tossed and turned until I fell back into sleep. The phone began to ring, and no one answered. There were the small, far off, sonic invasions of the rooster down the road, and I knew I had to get up eventually. Strange how different sounds make me wake up in different moods, with different feelings. A few nights ago, the eerie cries of a pack of coyotes woke me up at around 2AM. It sounded like an army of ghosts, haunting the field behind my home. Birds outside my window give me the feeling of gentle insistence. If my cat starts talking, it always seems like “What are you doing? Get up, get up!”.
And now its time to pick up the mail. I’m sending the last 4 episodes of the first X-Files season back to Netflix. I won’t receive the beginnings of season 2 until next Tuesday. It should take me about 2 1/2 months to watch the whole shebang.
Then its off to a meeting in Great Barrington. Eventually, when I go back to school, my meetings will die down some, but I’ll go everyday at least. My life continues on and on, with or without my permission.
Johnnyboy
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