April 9th, 2001

Doom

Hell in a handbasket ...

Yep. Like that. The whole $$$ is freaking me out today. Tax stuff. You don't need to know the details ... it's not actually OUR tax stuff but "family" tax stuff ... which may create a PROBLEM for us a few months down the road. I keep cranking out the resumes, but, frankly it feels like I'm "interviewing prisons" to see what new Hell awaits me. Bleh. I wish there was "a job" that didn't sound like pure unadulterated torture, but they all do. Fuck it. Some days I think I'd be doing my family a HUGE favor by "oops!" slipping in front of the damn subway.

(sigh) I really wish I could get the RSI/Unicity business "rolling". I really enjoy this, but it's taken so long for me to build it even to the level where I have it now (no doubt a function of my own misanthropy ... sort of hard to do effective follow-up with folks who are interested if you'd rather have root-canal surgery than talk to people on the phone!). I was really hoping the whole Unicity thing was starting with more of a "bang!", but it's looking more like it's going to building to a swell, culminating with the big conference this August down in Orlando. At least with going to the Minnepolis conferencce on 4/20-21 I'll be up to speed with everything. I was going to do a post-card mailing to my big list, but I guess I'll hold of on that until I get more concrete details. I mean, right now we don't even have a print catalog, so if somebody's not on the web, what do I do, say "uh ... you'll have to wait a few months for me to get you that info"? Bleh. It looks like we'll have the new "unified" Unicity look for the web sites in June now, the "new, new" compensation plan going into effect in July, and then the new unified catalog coming at the conference in August (along with the whole new "turn back the clock" line of "anti-aging" products. Oh, well. Hey, if you want to hear a 4-minute audio blurb on this (it's good, really!) click HERE

Anyway, another poem ... wrote this the other day while Daughter #1 was at her martial arts class (she got her first belt promotion!) ... not that that has anything to do with the poem.


                    EXPAT IN DREAMTIME REALMS


                    only elements
                    of this delusion
                    only factors
                    of this decay
                    nothing comes whole
                    nothing unbroken
                    we are trapped
                    in fragmented planes

                    the center is blurred
                    the focus unset
                    we stand
                    on unsure ground
                    shifting points
                    no stasis to build
                    no calm to collect
                    no base to expand

                    we travel on vectors
                    disjointed, diverging
                    unable to know
                    which direction we go
                    all is a muddle,
                    a puree, melange
                    that leaves us unsteady
                    unready to act

                    there is a fog
                    which follows me
                    a mist which hovers
                    before my eyes
                    as though this world
                    was but a dream
                    strange and twisted
                    and nightmare-like

                    how then to move
                    across that barrier,
                    to live in worlds
                    we know as dreams,
                    which bear more promise
                    than this sad sphere
                    and offer hope
                    unknown by day?



                             - Brendan Tripp
                                04/07/2001

                    Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp
 
 



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Loon

I hate these dream posts ...

Yeah, I never read 'em when other people put 'em up, so go ahead and go back to what you were doing.

I had the WIERDEST fucking dream last night ... even for me. Now, I guess I should put that in context, since I don't sleep much (I typically get by with about 4 hours a night, sometimes in two 2-hour shifts), I don't end up remembering a lot of dreams, but I have been WIPED this weekend, so I ended up getting 8 hours then 3 hours then 6 hours between Saturday night and Monday morning. So, by the time last night rolled around (and I was finding myself face-first into the pile of paper on my desk about midnight ... for the second night in a row), my brain was ready to do a doozy.

Now, I occasionally have nightmares of REALLY FREAKY SHIT, part due to my own "other plane" work, and my "intellectual" pursuits which bring me in contact with a lot of demonological stuff. But this one didn't have the "OH, SHIT ... THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING" character of one of THOSE things ... this one was pretty clealy just a wierd-ass dream.

This dream last night took place in a Big Spooky House that looked like an antique store after hours (dimly lit, lots of old dusty crystal and mirrors, drop cloths on random furniture, etc.). There were LOTS of strange folks around ... in the classic "overdressed for the occasion" look that lets you know that something's up. The ONLY "anchor this to a particular mythology" thing was that one of them was supposedly Barnabas Collins (from the old Dark Shadows series) who was supposedly my friend for whom I was there (the only problem was that this Barnabas looked more like Adam Sandler, was only about 5' tall, and looked like his face had been put in the fry vat). There were all the "usual suspects", vampires, demons, some strange sort of a werewolf (who I saw eviscerating a few people ... but in medium close-up ... all I could see was the claws and the torso), etc. It was like there was some sort of meeting/conference going on, with scenes shifting from the Big Spooky House to a convention center somewhere (where it would shift into one of those "what am I doing here, I don't know ANYTHING about this" dreams where I was manning a booth selling some plastic things). Somehow I had picked up some sort of "disease" at the convention center since when I was next back at the Big Spooky House my touch caused all the various Freaky Creatures there to melt into nasty puddles. That was about when I got up.

See ... I told you it wasn't worth bothering to read. Probably wasn't worth bothering to type, but I'd just read a post taking about freaky dreams and this one came back to me, so I figured "what the heck!".

You want good dreams and stuff worth the bother?
Click here!

Heh ... I am such a propoganda machine!


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