opposition

When someone says I don't do something I do soomething. When Alexis says not to write i write.

Last night I had a beautiful dream. I had a record. It played landscapes. The kind of painting of landscapes I used to imagine I would do, working in the field in the summer, selling my paintings at flea markets and I could have short hair, sleeping in a tent, getting stoned with weirdoes and telling stories with structure, knowing what made that goo different colors and how the mix slowed the drying. I never did it. There was a record, like I said, and it had a fleet of glockenspeiels and xylophones, just like I always imagined I would lead a fleet of percussion instruments to make a beautiful music. Not an electric keyboard. I didn't do that either. What did I do? I don't know. The dream said it was the wrong thing. It was the garbage truck coming. Just a bad night of nerves. I could still sing the song in the shower, and it was beautiful, but that's an almost everyday occurance now - they arent' pretty after. They are designed to get me out of bed and expunge my nostolgia and sleepbuddies by the time a shower is finished. No they don't work fo that. But they don't work for anything else either.

And on an un related note, this is what I do for "homework" hahahahaha.