IT GREW

Foot ache and periods of discomfort are almost necessary effects of being at work for several days, and as you would expect interfered with restful slumber. Combined with needing to go micturate. Which meant fractured dreams with periods irridescently bright in short term memory, more than half remembered. Normal dreaming fades. Not these. A large spotted feline. A teenage girl ensconced behind the multi-volume scientific encyclopaedia, happily absorbing engineering sections. And I had been unaware that there was a spacious cave behind there with room enough for a reading lamp and a tea-stand. A skiff on the Yssel lake fleeing the fast encroaching dry land as polderization occured at break-neck speeds. Distantly smoldering truck tires. A volcano spewing India ink (that smell, you know).
Almond pastries begging to be eaten.

Around the third or fourth time I got up I took a Tylenol, ensuring that the foetus would be born autistic according to our officials. Also, that sleep became less fragmentary.

Two things: Many (most) teenage girls are entirely uninterested in engineering, and almond pastries are sensual. The first is depressing reality, the second a pleasing breakfast feature.

India ink, by the way, has faint hints of wet cardboard and terpeneol.
Somewhere a deviant is sniffing his pen nibs.
Mmmmmmmmmm!

For reasons which make absolutely no sense, ink drawing is associated in my mind with colourful crocheted knee-rugs on the living room couch, reading Rudyard Kipling, and a view of the Saint Nicholas church across the street.

Not at all with girls (no matter how intelligent), science or engineering, or volcanoes. Or skiffs. Or tire fires. Unlike normal adolescent American boys I did not date at that age, and though females were interesting to me I did not persue the matter. It is very likely that I knew more about distant geo-thermal events and Tierra Del Fuego than the female psyche in those days, and I must have been a fascinating conversationalist, if one were a member of a narrow spectrum. I did not sweat a lot, certainly no more than normal boys.

And I had already discovered the wonders of caffeine.
Deep rich coffee, the tannic fragrance of tea.
These make civilization possible.


During my work days I have several cups. When I get home I have some more. Which may have influenced my dreams and contributed to my physical state during the night.
It's debatably better living through body chemistry.



==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================