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Sunday afternoon, bed, 18 Oct ’26
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Waking up with puke in my breath, like Hendrix died–just inhaling vomit. I drank and ate too much, but I guess party days are for that.
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In my dream, we were in many rooms, as if university was a whole city in itself. I was naked in public like many times before, I left my bags in the bus came in acrobatically and got’em back. But my sword was gone. A thin, long sword just right for leading the revolution.
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Head hurts but the physical vehicle is operational. He puts his laundry in the machine, got fresh water, had some coffee, and in already thinking of doing it all again. May the goddess teach me form and receptiveness, may the gods teach me tenacity and honour.
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Real natural wind–cool. I wonder what those birds have in mind. Mom and Daddy Hawk take warning flights at me every time I come at the window. Their baby is born, they protect it from the human. I would, too.
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Human is dangerous when it doesn’t wanna learn. Every morning I smile at a hawk coming at me to attack. Last Spring, I was ducking and shit; now I don’t even flinch.
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They trained me. They awoke in me the animal I have become. I allow my mind to be human, and the soul to be alien. I know I’m not from here; I just came to do some work, which I’m just now remembering properly.
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Air is the ether to human. We step on earth, swim in water; but air, we just have to breathe. Fly consciousness with firm hands, but not a tight grip. Be certain as the hawk and you’ll do just fine.
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Speaking of hawk, or certain, or fine. I shall break the fast now. And do my Gaeilge lessons. Watching American Football. Hot and sunny in Brazil.
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I’ll see you around. This week, we march again. Take the streets again.
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Downhill, like an avalanche.
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Lee
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