Elevate me Later

Last night I had a TERRIFYING dream that I was in a renegade elevator with a group of strangers. It began to severely malfunction and it seemed to shoot up erratically, then PLUMMET. At first, I tried to be calm for the good of the group, so I wouldn't encourage panic. However, as the situation became more severe, people just lost it and were screaming and scrambling to brace themselves without regard for their fellow man. Through all this, David Bowie's "Lady Stardust" was playing loudly. (not through elevators speakers, but rather as a crystal clear, overlaid soundtrack.) We crashed to the ground. I ended up doing some sort of handstand on impact. The elevator car split open in the process, and I, BADLY wounded managed to crawl out. The bones in my arms had splintered and shot up into my torso, but my legs were relatively unscathed. I ran around, crying out for help to the horrified people who stood observing on the street, who just stared as tears welled up in their eyes. I could feel (and sort of see) fragments of metal and glass protruding from my head and face.

Then I woke up and got ready for work. This is not the first elevator dream I've had in the recent past. Unfortunately, I think I know why this happens. The one sound I can hear in my apartment as I sleep is that of the elevator mechanical room in the hall, which happens to be adjacent to my bedroom.

Orange Juice Incident

The other morning I woke up, walked into my kitchen, poured a mouthful of orange juice in my mouth and promptly sneezed. I didn't have time to swallow, so it went ALL OVER my entire apartment. I wanted to just go back to bed.

Profound sense of Longing

Not sure why, but I am stricken with a heavy sense of longing today. For what I'm not sure. It seems to be a lot of things. Just heard a song (by the Silver Jews) that made me want to drink an ice cold beer on a fall day, strumming acoustic guitars with my friends among an autumn spectrum of colorful leaves. Maybe take a road trip, and watch the rolling landscape unfold and alternate between plots speckled with cattle and rotting barns, and small town cemeteries spotted with fading gravestones. Instead, of course, I'm stuck here in this office. But my mind remains free and wandering. Maybe this has been triggered by the recent visit to Chicago I made, which was filled with a certain sense of adventure that I must've not felt in a long time.