They say we dream in black and white... you came in color....

Dreams.

I go in spurts. SOmetimes they are a combonation of my thoughts, or a halucinatory trip, self-induced from stress and the world around me.

Went to bed late last night after a perkins run with imyaj, and much after cocktails and treats in Dodge Center with the boys.

I've been examining my life, piece by piece of late. Isolating the experience, the moment, the feeling. In retrospect measursing the time span by how far I have come, what I have accomplished, and who I have met on the journey.

My dream was a mix-match of life events-yet they were not mine, specifically. It was a bohemian manifesto. Living in a loft in San-Fran, with a bunch of artists, to getting kicked out of nursing school, and talking to my dad who set up my next move at Madison Tech school, and having some guys come over in suits to talk about investments.

We went back to the loft, much later, as in years. They took out the pool, and boarded up the place. It had changed. But as we looked at the white and red building, we examined it carefully, and remembered.... picturing that frame... and we were there...at another time...at another place....