A few of the very unforgettable tokens of thought people have relayed to me then and now that I just hold on to forever (verbatim) . . .
- Have you considered electroshock therapy? Best friend (sincerely)
- Aunt Morgan, why can’t you get a job? 4-year-old nephew
- Oh, Morgan, why do you hate men? . . . Then why don’t you date? Mom Continue reading
Something is lying in that grass.
(Photo courtesy of me)
This morning I jumped out of my sleep screaming. I was having another snake dream. Lately I’ve been having recurrent dreams about snakes, and roads and bridges. In the dream I find myself, for whatever reason, walking along a road, the way I walk along a local road every day to compulsively burn calories and also to expel my ever-present, overwhelming energy—my existential disgust, that is. And then I get to a point where I need to cross a bridge, or an overpass across a highway or something. It’s a typical suburban overpass overgrown with weeds and thickets, etc. And it also is crawling with snakes overhanging from branches and wrapped around poles and power lines and vines, and curled up on the pavement. It’s grotesque, and when I get to the middle of the bridge I encounter one particular, brightly colored virulent snake. The others are only black garden snakes that are merely disgusting, but this one is disgusting and also poisonous. This one in the middle of the bridge is a pinkish, organge-y earth tone with some design on it, and it’s slimy, and it’s curled up like a pretzel, waiting for me in the middle of the bridge. In this particular dream, I started to cross . . . and then I sprung up out of my sleep in a hysterical scream, waking myself up (kind of) as I approached the pink snake.
When I screamed myself awake, I started checking my blankets and bedding around me, convinced there was a snake crawling around my room or bed, still delirious with slumber. It was around 8:15am. Then I fell back into a zombie stone-like sleep spell until around 11:30 or 12, when I was no longer delirious, and I resumed my usual daily routine of staying under my blankets awake and dumfounded and hiding from life until I finally somehow managed to force myself up and desperately drink coffee. Continue reading