Say it's s'not true...

Last Tuesday:
I am coming down with a cold, it came on very fast, and I can only hope that it goes away even faster. Ah well, the drixoral will control most of the emanations and the dreams will be good. If the real life dreams can't come true at least the night dreams can be intense. Drug induced etc, etc, etc.

With no trust, there is no us - that's another cliche I remembered - it popped up today when I was going through some papers and applications, trying to judge someone. Normally, I adore being judgmental but this time I hesitate because if there is no trust in the system, it crumbles. Well, it does doesn't it? You can't cover everything, and so there must be some trust that you are telling the truth, mustn't there? Skating on thin ice - ooh, another cliche - an one that's apropos too.

With no trust, there is no us. Skating on thin ice. It all ties together somehow. I just know it does somehow. It`s so much easier to make connections between seemingly unrelated things when you`re taking drixoral. You feel light-headed, a bit giddy and your brain feels like a hand towel that`s been well wrung out. And most of all, logic is not something that you have to worry about.

Today, I also finally sought attention for my wrist what was banged up and hasn't been the same since in February. They prodded, they bent, they stretched, they put it into traction, they even applied lasers to it. To no avail, but perhaps that's unfair of me as it does take time. Wrists, like shoulders, are tricky, even when you have beautiful ones (shoulders that is, no comments have been made on my least not yet).

I think that perhaps the best thing for me to do is to reserve all judgment and not take actions of any kind until my mind stops spinning. Instead, I shall go ice my wrist instead and remain quiet because sometimes when you say something that's not well-thought out, umbrage is taken and in circles that are as small and as competitive as the ones I spin in, things do get around.

Last Thursday: 
I believe the damn virus has burnt itself out finally. There is no longer a burning sensation in my throat, and the pressure in my head has eased slightly. Mind you, there are other pressures there, but let's not go there at this moment in time.

I lolled at home on Tuesday and Wednesday and forwent the run around the park. There is no point pounding the pavement when the head is already pounding. Still taking drixoral so the dreams are coming fierce but not as fierce as the one that CA told me about cleaning out some...oh, I don't even want to think it. Where's the fecking eye-bleach?! Where?!

On this evening, I fully subscribed to the old adage about feeding a cold, and starving a fever (don't correct me if I've got this wrong) and sallied forth to chow down on freshly fried chicken with skin on. It wasn't quite deep fried whole turkey, but close. I believe I've only done this twice this year, but was told it's the third time. I highly doubt this though as I know how to count in multiple languages. Yesh. That's my rationale and believe me it's no worse than some rationales I've heard this past week. And nothing to do with a stuffed nose and head - they were bad. I checked again, and they were bad rationales. Bad. Bad. Bad.

I also managed to squeeze in a performance of Kim's Convenience (double dose of drixoral to stem the flow of snot) reviewed here by Mr. Colin Thomas of the Georgia Straight - he who whooshes in with such style on his bicycle, then parts the crowd with his ability to make or break a career in the thay-tear. It was a fun evening, and I'm never letting my parents see this show for they will find new ways to lay on the guilt.

Friday was a day of no consequence and no memory to be quite honest with you. I think I made some vague promises about doing some analysis of images I don't remember acquiring. I guess I'll have to make something up.

Saturday was spent realizing a vision, but before vision could be shown, rain drops had to be avoided and fake rattan weave put together, and then taken apart and put together again because sometimes configurations do matter. Okay, so I'm now talking about what happened instead of deep profound things, but quite frankly when the snot is in full flow, nothing profound stays around long - it's too disgusting.

Sunday - there was more rain and it was the BMO, and there I was at the start and the end, but ever so fortunately, not actually running nor volunteering. Just observing, doncherknow. It seems to me now that this weekend there was a lot of sleeping, or if not sleeping, at least lying down groaning softly in pain as I moved my head from side to side to drain the left, then the right sinus.

Today - Oh, I can't go through the details of the day - far too mundane. I'm feeling numb today because I've exceeded my body's tolerance for cuppa after cuppa and the effects of drixoral. However, things are less solid now, and more fluid which is a good sign, and I hope that tonight's sleep, and tomorrow's day will bring relief to all aspects of this little life that is not motivated by much of anything. I can't even take pleasure in  my new vision. Not. Yet. Still, all things must come to an end, but the question is this: Do I forget cosmic wishes and deal with dull reality or do I continue to cut dull reality (for no life can be a constant round of excitement, joy and happiness - you'd go mad if it were) with some cosmic wishing and just continue turning corners, and like Sorrow, poor mutt, float?

Keep passing that window...