It has been an unusual day for me in that I went to town twice. I did not mind this in the least and probably because I had no desire to work in the garden and also because I had a most strange and disturbing and yet powerful dream this morning and I needed to switch channels, as it were, in my brain.
The dream had Ross in it and he was there seemingly just to enter the ocean and while dreaming, I knew that he was gone and that it was an absolute amazement that he would come back at all. But he did, for a moment, and then into the ocean he dove and disappeared while dolphins swam and cavorted up and down the beach.
The second part of the dream was connected to Ross but I am not going to say how, it just had someone in it who was very much a part of his life. This person has either (in real life) just gotten out of prison or is about to get out of prison and his sentence has been long.
Over thirty years, I think.
And this person was a friend of mine whom I thought I knew very, very well, and I had no idea he was doing the things he was doing that got him arrested and I've never quite recovered from that. I suppose it is easy to say that we can never really know someone but trust me when I say- FUCK!
Well, so there he was and in one scene of the dream he talked me into taking a hit off a crack pipe and I did, and then immediately fell to the floor and I could see the very nap of the carpet as my head got closer and closer to it which is an odd detail, isn't it?
Let me hasten to add that although I did have a short history with the friendlier drugs like weed and psychedelics, I have never even SEEN a crack pipe, much less hit one. So, so, odd.
My first trip to town was only to Publix. Mr. Moon left this afternoon to go fishing and he needed some things and I was being in a very good-wifey mood and volunteered to go get them. Cut-up watermelon, a prescription, etc. He would do this for me anytime. He never fails to call me when he's on his way home to ask if I need anything from town and when I do, he never complains, but stops at the store and gets whatever I've asked for and brings it home.
My second trip was to pick up Hank to take him to the doctor for a check-up. He and Rachel only have one car and so occasionally he needs a ride. I hadn't seen him for awhile so I had no problem with that and we chatted on our way there, and after his appointment we stopped at a different Publix so he could pick up a few things and we talked our way through that little trip too. I enjoyed it!
And there will be blood.
Guess who turned 80 years old today? (Thank you, dear A.)
To be succinct, Mick Jagger gave me the permission to direct my sexuality where I wanted to. He was beyond naughty. He was nasty. He moved like a snake and he sang like someone that I would definitely let go farther than was acceptable. This was at the time when I was being abused and also being told (by my abuser) that looking at boys, that boys looking at me, was wrong and that I must not do it. Forget dating or kissing or any of that other stuff.
But then, there was Mick, making it quite clear that doing that other stuff was not just okay, but was pretty much the secret to life.
And he was. He was bending genders before genders were anything besides what the doctor called you when you were born, based on your external genitals. Mostly. The world could hardly deal with his eye-liner, his hair, his sweet little ass.