Nethersphere

While it's rumored that Halloween is the holiday when the veil between the actual and the fantastical grows thin, I'm beginning to believe that St. Patrick's day should hold this title.

This past St. Patrick's day I shared a waking dream with a new acquaintance of mine. Did we both actually see the woman asking him to dance fall asswards only to have her skirt fly over her head? And was there really a fellow with a gigantic purple snake around his neck buying me wine? Ominous.

But the best bit of magic was the company I kept. While seemingly gregarious to others, my acquaintance has a deep reserve of shyness that most magical creatures have. I'm fond of using alice for my analogies and won't refrain now. That evening he was the deer in the wood of forgetfulness and I, in the role of alice, was afforded a rare glimpse at his charming soul only because neither of us could remember who we were.

All I can say is three cheers for booze (a.k.a the wood of forgetfulness in liquid form).

Twinkie

Zen meditation #1: eat the twinkie; be the twinkie. People are like twinkies because they have goo in the middle. But our goo is not tasty.

Pig

Today I realized that my last romantic relationship was much like an exerpt from Alice in Wonderland. It's the bit where Alice rescues a baby from the clutches of the abusive scullery maid only to find that the precious child was nothing more than a pig in a blanket.

As much as I want to justify the strong feelings that I had, I can't seem to squint at it enough to make it anything more than the pig that it was.

And it was an ugly pig.

With gas.