Dreams reveal the world.
We wake while often the narrative is difficult to recall.
Events of the waking world, on the other hand, are forced. It falls to us to weigh & sort & order these events.
We assemble them into the story which is us.
Cities of the Plain by Cormac McCarthy
Great achievements once considered impossible were accomplished with the help of other people (and other animals).
Q: We’ve zoomed in September & October – how has that helped you?
A: Helped understand geometry.
Q: I’m glad to help. Who else have you asked for help?
A: Math teacher. Honors students.
Q: Tell me about your teacher. Is he/she good at explaining things?
A: They’re about to go on maternity leave.
Q: What does your teacher look like?
A: Pregnant.
Q: Tell me about your math class. Is it sometimes interesting, or always boring?
A: 30 people, 30 minutes, 5 days per week. Many days just study hall.
Q: How are your friends doing in math? Who is the smartest?
A: Lori
Q: When was your last test? How did you do?
A: October. Fine. 70 out of 100. C-
Q: When is your next test? How will you prepare for it?
A: Friday. Do review today.
Jojo was a man
who thought he was a loner
But he knew it couldn’t last.
Jojo left his home in Tucson, Arizona
For some California grass.
Get back, get back,
Get back to where you once belonged.
Get back, get back,
Get back to where you once belonged.
Get back, Jojo.
“Is Tucson in Arizona?” John checks with Paul as The Beatles write “Get Back” – New Yorker cultural-comment
What’s at LunarData.com?
Where’s that smile?
My sensations were strange. Let me try to explain them.
When I was a child, I well remember a somewhat similar circumstance that befell me; whether it was a reality or a dream, I never could entirely settle.
The circumstance was this: I had been cutting up some caper or other–I think it was trying to crawl up the chimney, as I had seen a little sweep do a few days previous; and my stepmother who, somehow or other, was all the time whipping me, or sending me to bed supperless,–my mother dragged me by the legs out of the chimney and packed me off to bed, though it was only two o’clock in the afternoon of the 21st June, the longest day in the year in our hemisphere.
I felt dreadfully. But there was no help for it, so up stairs I went to my little room in the third floor, undressed myself as slowly as possible so as to kill time, and with a bitter sigh got between the sheets.
Moby Dick, CHAPTER 4, The Counterpane by Herman Melville