smokingboot

I do not feel it this year, presumably because my primitive self wants to avoid this vibe route right now. Even death in playful mode feels a bit much for me. I've carved a pumpkin very badly but the truth is, I could do without trick-or-treaters. It's good for me though, to make the effort, get up and go to the door, engage. Very little effort and yet it feels like a lot. Thank god we took our grand trip long before the op! Had it gone like this, we'd have lost the whole holiday.

A waking dream regarding Il Principe. In it, I was standing at the door of the Tower, very much Tarot card 16, and I knocked, even as storm clouds gathered fast above. The inside was full of indistinct dream creatures my subconscious hadn't bothered to shape, and even the shape of the staircase made no sense, the bottom of the stairwell led to some kind of hall but I couldn't quite sort the dimensions of the ceiling. I went upstairs to find the Prince and realised in my dream that I was some sort of Italian 14th/15th century man, well off, handsome, a traveller of some kind and the Prince's lover. The tower had windows that looked out in all directions. The Prince greeted me with affection, but there was no time, I told him, the tower was about to fall. And while we were discussing it, lightning struck, not once but often, and I fell amidst the masonry, wondering if what I heard was thunder and not cannon. Someone called out or murmured 'Francisco/Francesco.' Everything faded.

Next year, presuming I have not utterly disappeared from existence in some surgeon's titty-whittling contest, I would like to spend Halloween on the Eildon hills, looking for True Thomas' way into the fairy realm, or at least sitting round a campfire dreaming of it. Or maybe the very same up on the hill where Robert Kirk disappeared. Gosh, I feel extremely dizzy. It occurs to me I must go back to bed right now.