Well, that rain was a false alarm but I've been walking around literally in circles for the last few hours so it's time to take another break. I took a wrong turn shortly after the Old Mission (?) trolley stop, to where I walked from Mission Valley through a fairytale world of hazy warmth. I am so close to making some sense of this world I'm scared to death someone is going to end it for me tonight. I actually have wondered several times tonight whether or not I'm already dead, but the kids at Starbucks have still been serving me coffee and I don't think they do that for ghosts. So I'm probably still breathing real air. I know I can breathe underwater when I'm dreaming but I don't dare try it. The San Diego river is pretty murky anyway.
Right now I'm near a Days Inn of some sort, near a junction of I-8 and one or two other roads. I'm not altogether sure how I got here, and I'm damned sure I don't know how to get back to San Diego. Where I last stopped to write was at a cul-de-sac with a church, the Palisades Presbyterian. I was going to get comfortable there before I saw all the signs about "No Trespassing", "Violators will be Prosecuted", "No Loitering", etc. God damn it, Jesus, you don't want me hanging around your shit do you? I know, you like to keep those grid points to yourself.
So anyway, this is where it all comes together. Those dreams I had of the waxing crescent moon over the ocean had to have been here in California, not Maine. And I've "flown" over the same houses, I'm quite sure, that I walked past tonight, when I was astral traveling a few years ago just before waking up one morning. I almost stopped to talk to an old man (old man? shit, he probably wasn't any older than me... maybe even less. It's just that I feel like an 18-year-old again I guess) outside the Albertson's but decided against it. At first it seemed like another deja vu experience, of which I've had many tonight, then I thought he had something important to tell me, then I was glad I left because I was sure he had been ready to kill me.
This overcast sky with warm, pleasant weather has always evoked strange feelings in me, particularly when I stay up all night. It's like the time I read The Exorcist all the way through, and first broke my bad habit of slow reading caused by getting distracted by the page numbers. And like the time I rode my bike all night about 30 years ago through Burlington, Mass, to see Buffy Richardson at her college the next day. She didn't seem too happy to see me. She was actually kind of pissed if I remember right. I've never figured women out. Maybe in another 30 years or so.
I wonder if it's all the coffee and Espresso brownies. I have been feeling really weird in a good way. I remember perfect model cars. The Bible and the U. S. Constitution on microfiche from the Edmund Scientific catalogue. Fishing lures I bought from catalogues too. Ham radio equipment I drooled over but never had the money. Now I have no use for anything so heavy and bulky. If I could find a lighter, smaller computer that would let me get the same work done as with this, I'd get rid of this in a heartbeat. Well, battery is dying, gonna have to hang it up. Too bad I couldn't tie more of this together for you. The DNA is it. Microfiche is nothing, I'm going to encode information in DNA and viruses will replicate it, and I will grow clones that have all the wisdom of the ages encoded in the vast intron regions of the genome. Of course that presupposes that I actually obtain some wisdom...
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