Copycats are amazing listeners.
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I’m not taking any illegal drugs, let me just get that out in the open, right off the bat. And I don’t think my diet has changed all that significantly, though I’ve graduated from Grade A, Farm Fresh, Organic Vegetarian to Fine-I’ll-Eat-Fish-anarian. But, something is making me have crazy, exhaustive dreams, as of late. It’s not the first time I’ve had crazy dreams, but rather, it is the first time I’ve had a regular string of them. I’m going on Week 3, now. Which makes for 21 nights of what can truly be called dreams of “complete abandon.” I’ve been shot twice, lately;...
I drank it as if it were holier than Coke.
Hold on, now. Don't think I'm crazy, entirely, but I have on three separate occasions dreamed things that have then occurred. In actual life. The first involved a childhood pet, Scruff, who had gone to live with my grandparents at Fish Camp, a family compound surrounded my cabins, ponds, a basic swimming pool, and a torturously long vegetable garden, where we gathered each summer for a fish fry and the annual task of grading blueberries and other such fruit; several on my father's side were in the fruit farm industry; after an afternoon of grading blueberries, there is no child on...
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