Crash!

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No, I imbibed nothing last evening.  Well, water, coffee, milk?  Some of that for sure.  I was trying to stay awake in order to do some things this morning.  Nope.  I didn't even see it sneaking up on me.  I remember becoming really tired, then "bedtime" clicked into my mind.  Without thinking, or worrying about what I wanted to do, or plans, or anything else, I up and got ready for bed.  I don't think, at the point I went on auto-pilot on until I blanked into sleep, I thought about anything but going to bed.  Some part of my body put psychic blinders on the 'doer' part of my mind.  Kidnapped.  Sleep was wonderful.  No complaints.  I don't like when I can't do what I had planned, but... there just wasn't a way.  I'll figure something out.  And, no, I wasn't able to mess with any cooking or baking last night.  The cold that ripped through here recently might have had a part to roll in it, but the work I have been doing recently is another part of it.

I thought about writing about an event at the time, but decided not to do so.  I will now.  Have you ever been stalked?  I, at least used to be, a hunter... of sorts.  Sometimes the hunted, too.  Not so much a hunter of game, mind you.  I learned to turn on the blinkers and ears, keep the neck moving but in such a manner as to draw as little attention as possible, and to see what I wasn't looking at, sometimes what I wasn't looking for specifically, and using various means of keeping an eye on the what I was seeking in many and varied ways.  Even now I am probably not the easiest of prey.  Most hunters give off a psychic signature that makes all of their other efforts at masking useless, to another hunter.  The best, and I would like to think myself, learned to mask that.  But in masking it, a huge hole remains.  Where a man should be standing, I will sense nothing with such men.  And, yes, I see it.  I see it, sometimes, while looking at myself in the mirror.  Spooked me the first few times, until I understood.  In any case, I can virtually smell a hunter.

Not so long ago, I was being hunted.  She was a rank amateur.  She wasn't hunting for the reasons I ever hunted, I don't think.  She seemed... pleasant.  I don't think it was romance, if there might have been a small, more innocent, nature of that, inciting more hunt than was intended.  I can't know for sure.  It was... different.  A mother type, with young children, one of them still in diapers, and they were with her.  Very strange doings these days.  Oh, no offense, or great flattery, on my part.  I don't know what it was about.  Just odd.  Perhaps the photos that are out are less flattering, and she wanted to make sure it was me before reporting to the anti-man sisterhood.  Or maybe she liked something I wrote, or music writing mix.  I get it a lot, usually in smaller doses.  Something I am just trying to sort out in my mind.  It seemed positive, often does.  But no one ever approaches, just hunts a bit from their version of the shadows.  Real life story peoples.

Today?  I don't know.  More crusts need to be made, for sure.  A few more practice pies, perhaps.  And I need to figure out how to get a quiche out earlier in the day.  I woke at almost 10:00, which would be just enough time to put a pie in the oven and have it ready at the time I would like to send it out.  But everything would have to be pretty much ready to go.  The custard is easy to make in minutes, but anything cooked such as bacon would have to be done, any cheese or vegetables would have to be ready to go, and the crust would have to have been pre-baked.  That I woke at 10:00 was an oddball thing.  Gah!  Trapped in a cycle loop, needing to be in a part of the cycle with which I have almost no definite access.  I'm working on it.

Oh, and dreams, last night.  The vagaries of life, war, love, God... it all... hmm... came into view.  The music last night was a more fanciful, and only partial, version of what I saw in the dreams.  So many things I see, and "know".  I do have visions, dreams, and waking dreams.  I do sense things in a very particular way.  It's not always easy to translate, much as a child, or even mathematician or physicist, might have difficulty encapsulating the particular design of a snowflake.  If what I see is even true, or even true for me, is another thing.  Can't really tackle one until the other is fleshed out then checked for veracity itself.  A story teller.  No doubt. 

But the stories, often, come from somewhere.  Sometimes they go off track, sometimes they go too far, sometimes much of what is seen is not shown.  Story telling is an art, not a science.  More so when it comes from a pool of what is potentially a foreign truth to many.  Yes, and sometimes I purposefully misguide.  I need to spit something out but many have shown that they are not ready for all that I see.  Some things damage nerves and upset applecarts.  Not a problem, for me.  I sleep well with what I do.  I suggested, before, several times, that I am indeed a seer.  Or believe that.  But also that I am a seer for what it is I, or something else, am, and am here to do.  I see what it, or I, know, have learned, have reasoned, and believe about things to come.  That aspect, knowledge, and focus, is not necessarily for you.  I only write here to kick it out of my head, or put it on paper and tinker with it until what I sensed makes a more perfect sense to the rest of the "story", but it is all more for me.  You just get cheap comic book entertainments.  Cheap?  I mean free, save for the time you invest.  I do bleed for you, you know.

And, yes... women were in some dreams.  No sex, though these various women and notions of women, were vaguely sexually intriguing.  It was more the softer side of women that was viewed.  The promise but not act of sex.  When all is arranged but the time is not right.  Decisions have been made.  A look at them in that soft dewy place when little else matters and the hope of love, at least for moments, is tended.  Women are very different from men.  Some women can live in this place, without taking another step and happily, somehow.  I suppose some men go through this stage.  I, for my part, have never known it.  But I have seen it from the outside, as I did in my dream.

Beastly cold last night.  I had to open my bedroom door.  The precipitous drop in temps made my room, usually frigid as I like it, too cold for even me.  Not so much the body, as the nasal passages.  They are still blocked up from having tried to ignore having my room go from refrigerator to freezer.  I think I woke early because the temp was all the up on 70.  Too warm to sleep, even with only the partial backfill an open door from the stone part to the wood part of my house allows.  I will be keeping the door open for a while, but turning the temp down to the low 60's.  Need my cool to sleep.

Later.