...
But I keep dreaming of Elon Musk while I'm trying to sleep off all my injuries. The first one was the great one, where there was just the two of us, both dressed in huge flannel PJs in a HUGE bed, playing in it like a couple of little kids, and then venturing out to the various rooms of a spectacular mansion to observe geniuses discussing or working on breakthroughs in art and science and even literary form. There was only the one room, on the third floor, that was just one big pool that contained almost exclusively bubble-headed-bleach-blonds and a few guys behaving like kids in a candy store. We just observed and did not respond to entreaties to join any of them.
Then there have been a series of just not clear enough to convey snippets of Elon and me, but this morning there was a series of them, all in the same setting and general theme, which consisted of my friends Jack and Clare having become even wealthier than ever before and their home being even larger with even more expensive trappings and me being there either before or after having house sat for them and acted as general pet therapist for them.
Elon was there and we were enjoying another one of our wordless but very fun childish tussles. Soon though there was one of those kind of women who compensates for her generally skinny frame and not pretty or ugly face and unremarkable hair, by use of exotic or ridiculous attire, lots of makeup, and ludicrous hair scenarios. She came in and sat in his lap with a sort of feral parrot who kept escaping her grasp.
She finally gave up chasing her prop bird so as not to lose Elon's lap, and the sweet little parrot tottled over to me for some hugs and kisses and just general getting about together, and I was getting about looking for a snack because I was really darn hungry, but nothing was where it goes, everything seemed to be in a state of being readied for a monumental event, and I was at the point of going to be satisfied if I found a packet of bread crumbs to share with my little feathered friend.
I woke up to pee. By the time I got back, my bird friend was gone.
Elon had stayed seated in a fairly large and comfortable chair with nice sturdy arms, and had not been paying attention to the twit in his lap, but was in a sort of state of taking in everything without engaging in any of it, but soon it seemed more people were arriving... men... and they sort of built up a little conference room around him. I finally found Jack and Clare's missing refrigerator but it was empty and being readied to be hauled off. Damn.
Another awakening to accommodate my bladder, but got back in time to find their new refrigerator, the same as the old one, but at least half again larger. Finally! A snack, but, no, it was filled COMPLETELY with very tall and slim crystal containers of candied delicacies, clearly just to be placed all over their huge home for guests and either replaced regularly or topped off by servants while the main meal and drinks would be flowing from specific locations.
The men were showing Elon a video and they were obviously frontloading him for some sort of internationally important meeting or other which would be taking place in Jack's study before this blockbuster soiree would commence.
Well, fuck that. I'm HUNGRY and I gotta find something edible around here or I'm going to faint.
So I woke up and took a chic horse pill and a couple bites of chicken salad. Made myself a big cup of coffee to sip while listening to today's updates from Alex Christoforou on the state of the meteoric decline of Western "civilization".
It seems to me that cosmos is trying to teach me something and Elon is an important symbol for it, so I have to start figuring out what about him is the key to the lesson I'm supposed to get from these dreams.
pipe up any time....
