Relapse stops today. That's what I decided. On selection Sunday. It seems that I have this tendency to plan my life around parallel events outside. Yes you can definitely say that. Guess you oughtta look for omens where you can't find answers.

The muse to the way I dance: Bill Cosby.

The kind of woman that attracts me: the teasy kind.

This is shaping up to a confession. Two nights ago (I had meant to write this down) I had this dream. Dreamt that I was climbing a wet gray hill in rain, wearing shiny neon yellow jacket much like the kind traffic cops wear, climbing on my bike. Not the gasoline kind, the glucose-consuming ATP-making man-powered kind. Which was the problem, the hill was getting tougher and tougher. Every little bump on the road felt like gigantic mountains on their own, I was unable to keep my steering straight to get into a rhythm and the top seemed like so far away. In real life as opposed to in dreams, this sort of feeling of dispair would never grip me the way it is gripping me right now--which tipped me off that this was a dream and, once you realize that you're in a dream without waking up, the state of what, or where, or when you are is what, where, or when we call a Lucent Dream. I became the all-powerful being of that little realm. I am physics, I am cause-and-effect, I am the all-sayer of what is to be and what is not. And in that instant my man-powered bike turned into a Yamaha chopper (even in that realm I'm not the harley kind of guy). And I chopped my way ahead and above and joined these other harley kind of guys. One of Whom told me that it's going to be alright, referring to the vertical drop up 1/300th of a second ahead. A vertical drop that will get you screaming and white-knuckling the safety bars on roller coasters. I look down and it's the same piece of Yamaha chopper, suddenly seem less potent and safe. The harley-guy says, it's gonna be alright. And it was, the most absolutely amazing near-flying experiences I've ever had since that time I floated 3 inches above the geometric ground (until I had the sense to dissolve the ground and thus my one and only full-blown flying dream experience).

Sounds kind of like a dream that is sexually stemmed. But then again, isn't everything?

I do treat this blog thing a little too indiscretely. But then again it's the kind of stories I would like to tell someone if they listened anyway, so what's the worry?