Blood Musk

April 06, 2006 - 9:13

I won't go into the nightmares I had last night, because they were mostly muddy disturbances that I can't recall clearly enough to illustrate. I will, however, say that in my first moments of morning lucidity I was singing in my head, "Them bones them bones them awful bones, (stroking rib cage, repeating many times)". Feeling disconsolate, I was trying to dwell on what remained of my fondness towards comedian Chevy Chase, because "he was the only one who paid attention to me (in my dream)."
It feels very good right now, believing in the pleasantries of the impersonal relationship. Where before it was a chore, it's been an honest comfort to me lately. Dawn says I look French today. Sean always says good-bye before he leaves.
Yesterday, I participated in a yoga class held at my gym. It was awful, for the lights were on fully, and I couldn't look anywhere to escape the mirror. But, in the final resting moments I reconciled by imagining I was a sheep on a pitch-dark moor.

And a displaced hand was burrowing into my wool.