Karl (louderback) wrote,

  • Mood:
  • Music:

A dream and odorous writing

Today's Lyric:
The time is right, to ride into the battle
we're fighting hard...for the glory of Odin
burn down their houses, with your warrior's rage
slay the dogs and drink their warm blood

Warriors awake, look foward into distance
And ride into the next, hard battle
Ode to the Fallen One
An image I like just for the Hell of it.

Recently Played Songs:
         I've not much to report today. I've been on the bus a couple of times this week. Monday I went out to do battle with the bureaucracy and wound up buying a cell phone if you'll recall. Tangentially, the guy that sold me the phone, Dave, buttonholed me in Ace hardware Wednesday night and wanted to chat. He's a friendly guy, but I sort of wonder about him. I like the guy, but it seemed he was just chatting up random people at the hardware store. SEP (somebody else's problem) as Douglas Adams would say.

         Today's excursion was nearly as bureaucratic, and less eventful. I went to H&R Block to have my taxes done. There are doubtless cheaper solutions, but I just haven't got the mental acuity to do them on my own any more. I got there and found I had left countless necessary components behind, so it will have to be done over tomorrow. I hope both my taxes and my sister's can be completed there tomorrow with minimal hassles.

         After stopping at Block, I wandered to the grocery store half a block away. There I found sushi. Grocery store sushi, but "Any sushi is better than no sushi", say I. That provided my lunch along with a diet pepsi "jazz" which is caramel cream flavoured according to the label. I am not at all certain what its flavour is, but it is exceedingly sweet. It might make a good float or shake or something, but I don't think it is meant to simply be drunk.

         I dreamt yesterday in the afternoon. Maybe one of those Otherkin dreams, but who knows. It fits the pattern. I dreamed I was walking through a dimly lit forest. It seemed to be virgin forest, and extremely ancient. The trees were enormous and the underbrush was thin, sparse because of the dim light at ground level. The earth was spongy, muddy, and tended to clump up around my feet. The texture of the earth was not leafy as I would have expected, but much like fresh-tilled earth, or even coffee grounds. My feet sank deep with every step and I felt like I was slogging through a marsh. I was hurrying the entire time I dreamed. I felt pressed to reach some location, but I don't remember knowing what that location was. I would sometimes see piles of stone, in clearings in the forest, but I avoided these. They had the look of huts or enclosures of some sort. None of them seemed big enough for me, but might have been barely adequate for some sort of animal. I walked on and on, pausing at a stream to drink then to lie briefly in the water. The environment was not warm by an means, it seemed almost wintry, but the cold water was pleasant to me. Eventually I reached some higher ground. I climbed low foothills that fronted some mountains to my right, and from them I could look out over a long, deep river valley. The sun was setting and it made the river, which was wide and very old from the way it serpentined across the valley floor, a ribbon of brilliant orange. There were boats on the river and at the far side of the valley I saw what might have been a village or even a town. I couldn't see clearly, there was some mist in the valley, and the distance was considerable. I didn't feel glad to see the town, it was not my destination. Indeed, it may have been a hindrance, but I headed downhill toward it. I just barely cleared the trees and reached the level valley floor when I woke.

School Smells
One of the things I always hated about school was the abundance of smells that I found unpleasant. Just walking in the door there was always that floor wax smell mixed with leaves and wetness from people dragging crap inside on their shoes. It had a sticky quality and a musty sharpness too. Head for your locker and you get surrounded by other students. There's a symphony of vile odors for you. Stinky shoes, hairspray, grotesque floral perfume, sweat, the body odor of that guy that showered annually, even the cigarette stink bleeding off the teachers who were toxic with nicotine. There's nothing as annoying to me as a female who smells like a bowl of fruit instead of a woman. Walk past the drinking fountain and you smell the acrid rust/hard water smell that is still somehow not bad enough to keep you from drinking there. Pass the bathroom and you experience olfactory pangs that you feel all the way to you bowls. Some time in the day you're going to have to go in there and smell the shit and urine stink overlaid with sanitizing hockey pucks and blue water aromas. In middle school, the locker room was there. That is a special situation. Foul shoes, perspiration soaked cotton, socks with a special dusty quality to their reek. Overlay that with deodorants while one group or another is dressing or undressing and you get special nuances of vileness. Then of course there's the classroom. The music room smells of nerves and wood polish. The home room reeks of chalk, bubble gum, and irritability. Study hall has a smell of sweat from those who don't think they need to shower after gym if they're only going to study hall, and of markers underlining in books that have already been marked to death. Then of course there was the unique affliction of the cafeteria and the rooms near it. I'm not even going to go there.
Tags: dream, taxes

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded