Approximately a year ago, I was wandering the sometimes broad and much too sunlit and at other times twisty, tenebrous and narrow streets and paths of Siracusa in Sicily with Marisa. It was a city in which one could find a Jesus in practically every other alcove.  By means of almost universal contrast, I am in the exceedingly _American_ city of Orlando at the moment, albeit sitting on Jeremy's sofa and thus not exposed to the elements in the drea...
There were three main trails we took when we were _paseando_ just outside of Fresneda. ## Trail One: La Cascada We took this trail the most often. In fact, Michal and Mirka accompanied us to the waterfall at one point. Michal took a dip in the frigid pool into which the water cascaded.  Michal is fond of "taking a dip". A portion of his mind feels he is doing a sort of _cold therapy_. A portion of my mind feels he is just attracte...
Music plays a big part in my recollection of _scenes_ from my past. Though I can divorce myself from the phenomenon when concentrating on a piece or song, I can easily _swap out the chip_ (as they say, and I am paraphrasing, in España) and have myriad musics hurl me back into certain swaths of time. This assists me in recalling the whole event surrounding the listening "session". The remembrance extends to fuzzy frontiers that are quite likely different for each "song". The strength of impression varies. A...
> This society hasn't changed one bit. People who don't fit into the village are expelled: men who don't hunt, women who don't give birth to children. For all we talk about modern society and individualism, anyone who doesn't try to fit in can expect to be meddled with, coerced, and ultimately banished from the village. This topic has been the subject of conversation throughout my life with multiple posses of friends. Bender and I went over time and again the idea of his that there are two types. Yes, I ...
Today is day **ZERO**! Amazing! I can only gawk at the implications! And very appropriate is that day **ZERO** lands precisely on Lee's birthday. My subconscious also acknowledged this small nugget of "truth". I dreamed last night of Lee. We met in a commodious transit station full of diaphanous haze. Yes, my dreams often feature ostensibly open spaces with walls or barriers or even membranes in the receding distance instead of pressing against one's senses. This may be a reflection of my claustrophobia. ...
The problem with day **ONE** is that there is still 48 hours to go, vole. Well, counting is for the _weak_, in any case, so I shall take it in stride. I just created a rather pedestrian improvisation using the Syntrx II. My original intention was to explore the so-called _Holloway Melody_ that I plan to use in heavy repetition and with moderate modification ongoing throughout the yet to be named 40+ minute piece that the semi-primate that calls himself "Christian Newman" will have to do some singing over. ...
The dream found me, or the eidolon of me, in a diaphanous and capacious space like a high school gymnasium that extended to infinity in all directions. A song by Tears for Fears sauntered into my ears from the sound system. It was nothing that I know on this side of the _dream reality_, but my eidolon had it placed on the first album, despite the fact that the lyrics had something to do with "happy endings". I'm aware that Tears for Fears has an album with a title that has something to do with "happy ending...
Day _five_. Amusingly, I miscalculated on _Day 14_, which should have been _Day 15_ if I planned for _Day One_ to land on the day before I depart. It turns out that the day before I depart will be _Day Zero_. Well, why not? As my departure approaches, my emotions churn, as I knew they would. They are affected by everything from what I have for breakfast (or if I have breakfast at all) and lunch to the temperature of pockets of air I walk through as I make my way from the building that houses "our" flat to ...
Day seven and there is still a proliferation of random objects in arbitrary locations around my place of "work". The word _work_ is a slippery one, especially on the lips of the American humans I grew up around. Though it never quite implied the same thing each time I heard it, it was almost regarded as _sacred_. Our indoctrination during childhood was to always focus on _work_. _Work_ was the road to a "successful" future. _Work_ was the path to salvation. From the perspective of adulthood, this shifty w...
Today is day nine. I shall pour myself some Houjicha - another reminder of Japan. I mentioned Japan the other day not only because Christopher is there but because to me it is a vague concept. Yes, it is a concrete land-mass, but the reality of actually being there is just an abstraction. This points back towards my resolve to not make plans that are, as it were, etched upon the surface of my skull, or upon the surface of anyone's skull, for that matter. Leaving future ideas abstract creates multitudinous a...
The ancient tapestry (I laughingly call it a tapestry) that habitually covers the Raspberry Pi with attached mini-screen whose name is _Yak_ and to whom I am connected now writing this was on the floor at the base of the monitor stand earlier. Yak sits on top of the monitor. Possibly it's not the best position for him / her / it / zubby, but I chose it for its proximity to the 12TB hard drive that is filled with backups from various parts of other machines round the household. Oouh, baby. Now what was the p...