Coy is Just Another Word…
“It’s obvious to everyone, you’re about to come undone, playing hard to get is hard to do when you’re wet. …”
- Me, inspired by .. not telling
Archive for Quote
Tarnished Quarter, Shiny Nickel
When you take away options, stranger things happen.
That’s the quote that came at the end and the takeaway from my dream earlier this morning that ended about two minutes ago. It involved several different scenes, this dream, but ultimately it seemed to be about making a person more deperate as he was hounded and accused and victimized by the people around him, the people closest to him; except for his parents. Though even them too as he could detect they expected absolutely nothing out of him anymore except survival. And at times, they thought perhaps that too was making his life worse.
It involved a grown man being late for school and classes; but miles upon miles to walk.
This man, this person constantly assailed, nevertheless walked by both a grimy, oiled quarter on the ground, then a shinier nickel a little farther up the hill, knowing kids who walked the same path would get more joy out of the discovery.
It involved me, or someone I thought for awhile was me, sitting in a car with my laptop, the one I currently own, the one I’m currently typing into. Someone else had carried it, walking away from the house, still typing away. And the WiFi had lasted an extraordinarily long time but at the corner, it ended and the guy carrying the laptop had to turn around. But, in the nature of dreams, with seamless yet also abrupt merge, it was me, suddenly in the car, in front of a strange house, with the plug cord snaking out across the sidewalk but only because it was snagged on something in the round-top cement wall. It seemed I was doing some kind of surveillance, discovery for someone else. It felt like it was on the right side of the law, or at least the right side of justice, trying to find the truth no one else was looking for.
Trying to return someone’s options.
It involved a hippy looking guy in a nice car, a Skylark or an Oldsmobile of some kind pulling into a parking spce in front of me, only then to imediately pull out again, or start to before seeing me walk behind him. I said something mildly uncomplimentary to him, but only mildly, after all he had stopped without me having to shout.
My brother walked out of jail, with two swollen bumps on his side, near his hips. He was shirtless. There was another bump on his forehead and a cut on his lower face. Except it was my face. Except I knew it was my brother. And I knew he wanted to tell me what had happened to my glasses, which were supposed to be on his face. No, my face.
He was about 10 people back in a very narrow corridor. I, he, was about a head taller than everyone else, as we often are, and people were being released. He’d only been there overnight, or maybe a couple of days. There was only doubt, I thought in my dream, because the cuts seemed to be fresh but healed as if they had happened a little while ago. But as he walked through it was my face and he walked past me with a small smile, ready to explain but knowing now wasn’t the best place. He stopped a little farther on as I let him walk past me and seemed to either insert or take something from a column in the wall.
There was tension in the city, though I don’t know where, and something was about to happen. But then I woke up, so it didn’t.
Exultation and Despair
There IS a difference between exulting despair and despairing exultation.
“Only a man who has felt ultimate despair is capable of feeling ultimate bliss.”
- Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Mont Cristo via Dirty_Snowfake, (via into) (via antoinetta)
Quoticonic: The Family Arsenal
Currently reading “The Family Arsenal” by Paul Theroux. It’s a 1978 Penguin paperback of a book first published in 1976. The author is not famous, but he does paint fairly descriptive scenes of real places. I’m less than halfway through a book that is blurbed as “A novel of violence in the tradition of Brighton Rock, set in the grimy decay of South-east London.” It’s original purchase price was £1.95. I’m enjoying it so far.
While somehow inspiring me to create the word Quoticonic, here a few excerpts which caught my ear and filled my mind with a clear picture. I’ve lived in London so perhaps that helped?
“… public houses; they were dirty and uncongenial, the haunts of resignation, attracting men whose loneliness was not improved by their meeting one another. They talked inaccurately about the world, swapping cheerless opinions.” pg. 29
“In winter it was tolerable; it had a bleakness Mr Gawber liked. The cold rain composed it, blew the newspapers into corners, restored the black shine to the street and kept the limpers indoors. Rain tidied it and gave London back some of her glamour, even some of her youth: the city was designed for grim weather, not crowds.” pg. 37
“It rained the next day, a heavy downpour ending a week of sun and dropping autumn on to that part of London, chilling the trees and darkening the brickwork of the angular terraces and washing all the traces of summer away. Where there was green, as in the park on Brookmill Road, it was sodden and depleted; and the city looked smaller and fragmented in the mist - it was a sea of sinking islands.” pg. 103
OH Really: Knit-Gnats
“It ain’t your grandma’s knitting anymore! Punk, geek, alternative and guerrilla knitting (e.g. cozies on parking meters). Fun!” - RogueTess
Step It Up
“Exploration is the first step to discovery, which usually starts at the second step.”
- Temple Stark, three minutes ago
I Hereby Declare - I Am the Worst Lover In the World
“Would you rather be considered the best lover in the world and know privately that you’re the worst — or would you prefer to know privately that you’re the best lover in the world, but be considered the worst?”
- Warren Buffett, advice on personal morality, paraphrased
Please spread the word, not STDs. (Sexual Transgression Dilemma)
