Last night I dreamed that I was at my grandparent's house, and they were still alive. My mom's brothers were there, too. I was in the front room with my siblings, and we were trying to pack up all these cool, weird Halloween collectible figurines. My grandmother, with her dementia, kept coming in the room and being nutty, and disrupting us. My grandfather, and my uncle were having a conversation about some guy who was coming over to paint a car for them. Eventually the guy showed up, and brought his kid with him.
There was more to it, but that's all I remember.
There were also several other dreams that I remembered at some point, but the details are gone now.
Made cheesy garlic bread last night. Didn't turn out as well as I had hoped, because I was out of aluminum foil.
I guess it was ok, but I have a high standard with stuff like that. I probably expect more than I am actually even capable of, as seldom as I actually cook from scratch.
Really feeling overwhelmingly Rimbaud today.
"Once, if my memory serves me well, my life was a banquet where every heart revealed itself, where every wine flowed.
One evening I took Beauty in my arms - and I thought her bitter - and I insulted her.
I steeled myself against justice.
I fled. O witches, O misery, O hate, my treasure was left in your care!
I have withered within me all human hope. With the silent leap of a sullen beast, I have downed and strangled every joy.
I have called for executioners; I want to perish chewing on their gun butts. I have called for plagues, to suffocate in sand and blood. Unhappiness has been my god. I have lain down in the mud, and dried myself off in the crime-infested air. I have played the fool to the point of madness.
And springtime brought me the frightful laugh of an idiot.
Now recently, when I found myself ready to croak! I thought to seek the key to the banquet of old, where I might find an appetite again.
That key is Charity. - This idea proves I was dreaming!
"You will stay a hyena, etc...," shouts the demon who once crowned me with such pretty poppies. "Seek death with all your desires, and all selfishness, and all the Seven Deadly Sins."
Ah! I've taken too much of that: - still, dear Satan, don't look so annoyed, I beg you! And while waiting for a few belated cowardices, since you value in a writer all lack of descriptive or didactic flair, I pass you these few foul pages from the diary of a Damned Soul."