I haven’t written in a while and the words aren’t sliding right. My flow of consciousness is a frayed string and words are beads that don’t quite fit. The string needs licking. The bead-words need coaxing. Come on, recalcitrant vocabulary. Here, boy.
I have legitimately never before thought of my vocabulary as one entity in possession of a gender. That was weird.
But anyway, skybound audience, I thought you might be interested in my dreams. Don’t psychoanalyse me, if you please. Keep all that Freudian nonsense to yourself. I don’t mean my night-dreams, when the heater’s on and the computer’s on stand-by and the Cheshire cat hovers at subconscious cross-roads, telling me that it doesn’t very well matter which road I take, since I don’t very well know where I want to go. No, I mean my “unfulfilled ambitions”. Of life, you know. Wendy said hers is to write a great novel in three parts, about her adventures. Mine also include writing. And lots of stairs, actually. I just noticed that tonight.
1. My number one Most Exciting and Dearly Beloved dream and ambition is to own a bookstore in Boston or Britain; a bookstore with an upstairs apartment where I can live and write books or articles or poems or anything verbose.
2. My number two Almost-As-Exciting and Beloved ambition is to live in a lighthouse. With a massive library. And write books, etc.
3. Also, I want a corgi.
As far as fulfilling these ambitions go, I lack only, eh, about 7/10ths of a fortune.
Sometimes I feel like a hitch-hiker without a backpack.
Here’s a thing, though- I wasn’t meant to have everything I want. (hey, how about that!) Man does not live by bread alone, and Grace does not live by travel and libraries and songs alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.
“For when dreams increase and words grow many there is vanity, but God is the one you must fear.” Ecc. 5:7
Let’s have adventures everywhere. But especially? Let’s have them here.