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Strange thing...



Went for a hike tonight. Didn't make it too far, as I'd spent most of today feeling dizzy, and feeling like my head was too heavy for my shoulders.



Anyhow, I did have the intention of finding a quiet place for meditation, and while I didn't find a secluded spot, what I did find was more than adequate.



During my meditation, I'd experienced something new and different: as the words of chant came to me, as the candle flickered before my closed eyes, I experienced a feeling of total weightlessness, of being transported somewhere else.



As I continued, a vision of being IN a tree, like one of those movies or fantasy stories describing someone who lives in a house composed of a hollowed out tree. Fire light, round wooden walls, knotty holes in the wood used as windows, and across the room from me, the silhouette of someone in a long robe and hood, seated, face hidden in shadow.



When I finally opened my eyes, it came as a complete surprise to find I was still seated next to the path.



A very strange experience for me. Stranger yet to realise that the house I'd seen could have easily been the inside of the dead tree behind me. The holes in the trunk could have passed for the windows I'd seen from the inside.



The oddest part: I didn't even get a good look at the tree until after the vision, when I stood up and shined my flashlight to get a better look.



I... just don't know what to say. I've seen, felt, and lived some of the strangest things ever, but I've never felt anything like this before.



I'm not even sure what to classify this experience as. Vision? Hallucination? Astral Travel? No idea...

Today, while working an event for my job, I'd encountered a bible thumper who tried to push some of his religious propaganda off on me.



I'd politely declined, stating "You and I don't worship the same things."



As I walked away, he loudly stated behind me: "God bless you."



I have to say, it was great to run into someone who can be just as spiteful as I.



LmFfAo!

It's a great place to come from. But not a great place to go back to...



As much as I miss the streetlights, the traffic noise, the smell of being so close to the brewery, and as much as I miss seeing my best friend more than once or twice a year...



I certainly wouldn't want to ever go back. At least, not for anything more than a visit.



The worst parts of my life took place in St. Louis; my possession, the many times we almost lost my mom to the various illnesses that the doctors can no longer find any trace of, getting stomped on the playground as a kid because I accidentally bumped into a black kid while playing tag (which obviously meant that I'm a racist, and NOT the ten or so teens who automatically assigned a racial motive to an accident), reduced to having to eat from a dumpster for a time, my lost friendships, getting shot, my one true love gone because of her mother, a bad relationship, the suicide attempt that followed, the reckless habits I developed, the lifelong injuries that followed.



But there were good times too. Some of my earliest good memories involved; classic sidewalk parties with good friends and good neighbours, walking to Leroy's around the corner for candy, rootbeer floats at Woolworth's on Cherokee, owning my first and second bicycles (and promptly busting my face open falling off the second), the time spent with my first love, street hockey with my boys, hiking the railroad tracks all the way from Bellerive park to the BFI dump and back, almost getting a doped out drug dealer at Fair St Louis 1997 to give ME the $20 so SHE can take her dose, cycling all over the city.



I guess I shouldn't hate the city, I should just hate what it has come to represent.



Kinda like I shouldn't hate the swastika--an ancient symbol of spiritual protection, I should just hate what it's come to represent: the nazi party and modern skinhead movement.



Yeah, no song to end THIS one with...

Indeed, last night's repertoire of nocturnal musings made for an interesting show.



It all started with a repeated loss of electric, causing my alarm clock to reset itself to 22:99.



Then, my brother decided to buy a pet hamster for our mother. He broke away a brick wall in the back of my bedroom closet, and hid the caged hamster in a secret room back there.



Oh dear, my alarm clock has reset again.



Turns out their is a secret door behind my bed, which opens up into the kitchen of a restaurant that caters to cannibals. (I'll forgo the part about "finger food", as I'm sure that was just my smart ass mind being its smart ass self)



The kitchen is guarded by a pack of Rottweiler puppies, who viciously crowded me off my bed and made me sleep on the floor.



But at least they woke me up, seeing as how my alarm clock reset again.



Audio cassettes that actually play pornographic videos? That's the last time I loan my mother any Metallica or Aerosmith albums.



Oh great! The hamsters escaped from their cage. (Plural, because that one single hamster multiplied to about fifty) They're crawling into a wood furnace, and the only way I can save them is to pluck them out of the cast iron hamster tubes with a pair of forceps.



But it doesn't help to have the power go out again. And reset the alarm clock to 22:99. Again.



Well, at least I have my steam powered computer to keep me company. Need more processing speed? Just add some coal...







Yes, I really wish my subconscious would learn to speak English! Ya know, if I had a working computer (or more precisely, internet service) I might be able to research some of these metaphors, and find out what's really going through my own head.



Thanks a lot, Seal. Got me dreaming in metaphors!

Sorry, couldn't think of a title, and that happened to be the song playing when I started this one.



I can't believe today! Such warm, clear skies. Such cool, gentle breezes. The wind chimes, cicadas, dogs barking, children playing.



Somehow, I feel like I'm finally in tune with the world around me.



But I know it cannot last for long. Eventually, someone's going to try to climb through my yard, or a fly is going to start buzzing my face, and that will be enough to set me off being pissy.



But in the mean time, it's just me, the voice of Anette Olzon, and the calming words of Scott Cunningham.



Too bad I haven't been able to afford enclosing my patio yet: might be worth burning some incense out here, if it would stick around long enough to smell...