My Mind

My Mind
This is my mind

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain

Like I said, this DST is hittin' me hard. Sitting here waiting for the kettle to boil. I need that boiling water to pour into my cup filled with instant coffee beads. Yeah, I'm no connoisseur of deep rich coffees brewed from freshly ground beans. I'm a caffeine addict who gets his kick quick. Not so quick this morning. I think DST has altered the law of physics or is that one of the sublaws of thermodynamics...let's see thermo, temprature, along with dynamics which is close enough to dynamite for such an early morning. So, blowing up with heat could pretty much describe boiling water. Ever watch it? It's like little explosions continually through absorption of heat. Not bad for a mind chockablock with spider webs and grey stuff. This old spooky attic, addict?, has lots of shimmering spectres still haunting after 60 years. Those shades from half learned ideas of childhood slip through the cracks on occasion. It doesn't have to be Halloween. It just takes early early mornings when the ego or superego, is that the one with the cape?, hold closed the door to the room containing the id, or is that IT? Whatever it is when that door opens the monsters, the skeletons and the shades come out. When the shades are drawn the eery light of that sub world is kept below.
Maybe that's when I picked up that pencil as a child and began to draw. It was super heroes to ward off the monsters. And there were monsters. I know there were. They stayed in the room at the back of the house next to the bathroom. The door was always locked. I seemed to be the only one who heard the stirrings in that room. It's a frighting thing for a child of 4 or 5 sitting on the porcelain throne with feet dangling to hear a scritch, scritch at that door. A young imagination can provide all manner of scarey critters come to gather him up with his shorts around his ankles. To be pulled under the door into the dark of the dusty cluttered space beyond.
Excuse me. I had to sit up straight and shake my head. Those ghosties and ghoulies need to go back to the underbrain and clear out of my every day world. HA HA. That was a short trip into the netherness of my dark and scary mind cellar. Wonder what the coffee drinkers at Danny's are doing.
...Part 5 of a continuing story.

Julia sat sipping her coffee. Her seat was by the window opening onto the street. The parade of humanity going to and fro in the world always amused her. Beyond that glass a world of men to be manipulated, cajoled and generally humiliated slipped past. She smiled when one of her toadies came to view. Upon recognition they would melt into obsequious gelatin before her eyes. It was all she could do to hold back a high pitched cackle much like the witch from Oz.
Joe, who bought Danny's, approached.
"Yes, Danny?" Julia turned toward him.
"It's Joe. Don't any of you people know that yet?" He threw his arms up into the air staring at the ceiling.
"If you were to change the name of this place it would avoid all the confusion. Have you though to of that?" Julia's exasperation was very evident.
Meanwhile just outside the window stood.....

Well, I don't know who stood outside and it's time to figure out breakfast.

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