Sometimes I
think about what it would be like to wake up alone, not in Chicago and really
be somewhere. Somewhere that isn’t just the place that I live, with all of
these things that I don’t need. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to end
up in a place that’s a lot colder, because that’s all there is to it, coldness
and its not about whether or not I’ll make rent, its whether or not I’ll
survive the cold. I think I want to be swallowed up in something. I want to not
be the one to push my life around, to find our through everything else, to not
set a path, because I’m too afraid to choose my own path ahead. I don’t know
what I want to do. I kind of just want to go to L.A., leave everybody, leave
everything. Maybe there is something to write about out there. Maybe I will be
pushed really hard and something inside of me will shift and I’ll know what it
is to be pushed to be able to push back. I wonder about all of my little cousins
and if they even care about me, or think about me. I think about every person
on my father’s side of the family a lot and wonder what it is to be them, what
their lives are, how they get on. But I’m not sure if I could ever be a part of
their lives again, once everything is at a distance, everything seems to stay
at a distance on my father’s side of the family. I don’t hear much from
anybody. Sometimes I receive a birthday card, sometimes I don’t. Who knows
anymore.
Maybe
here’s an idea for a novel:
The dreamer
dreams a dream because his is sick of the love that he’s in. The dream woman he
wants so desperately actually teaches him, takes him in, they have a
relationship instead of mindless dreaming sex. It becomes more important to
him, and through it he learns how to control the dream world.
Morpheus,
the God of Dreams is summoned in the world by two people who are at the end of
their wits. One is an addict and the other is morbidly obese. They want him to
help, to help shape the world and peraps make them better people. Mo agrees,
really wanting to just hang around the mortal plane and dick around for a
while. He finds a great deal of fun in creating a worshiping of himself, it
gives him a little power and an underground church forms in his honor.
In Lousiana
a young man shows up at the doorfront of an estate claiming to be the
grandchild of the estate owner. This is a scam in order to get a place to live
and slowly emblezzle and launder money through a friend’s “aquarium” business.
The owner of the estate is a very old man, the last man to slay a god, Mo
specifically, and send him back into the veil. The old man knows that the boy
is not his grandson, but lets him in, and lets him do as he wishes for a while,
but snaps and shows his power and his old life. The boy is shocked and actually
intrigued by it. Being a con man, he believes it could be a con at first,
everything the old man says, but begins to believe and actually form a bond
between them as Mo begins to shift the world and they learn more and more. The
old man perhaps trains the young man to become his successor.
Mo slays
the old man as he gains more and more sway in the mortal realm, seeing the old
man as the only real threat left in the plain. The boy stays at the estate for
a while and then goes to follow the dream god.
All the while the dreamer has been
improving his skills in dreams and following Mo’s footprints and the goings on
across the veil. The gods have notived him as well and have taken him from his
life in wakefulness. They are plotting to kill Mo and make him the new God of
Dreams to fill the void. He is given a chance to find the god and take him
back.
Mo gains
power in New Orleans, and both the hunter’s young man and the dreamer seek him,
not sure if together or if in opposing. Perhaps, in opposing, as the hunter
wants to completely destroy him, while the dreamer seeks to pull him back into
the veil.
Mo does
fall, out of window actually, but I’m
not sure who would win, or if Mo would simply off himself. I have a feeling that
the dreamer would win, that the hunter would not get what he needed, but I also
feel like that is me being afraid and writing a safe ending to something.
I’m not sure, its just an idea right now. I
actually like the idea more if the hunter’s “grandchild” was a women. Seems to
be a bit better in my mind. No idea though. I just really see Mo falling from a
second story window, onto the street, confetti and glitter in a trail behind
him. It could be suicide. Maybe that’s the answer. Nobody wins. Not sure
though, have to keep thinking about it, maybe try writing some new scenes, or
just some random moments tomorrow at work.
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