Lucifer's craft can be tried in our dreams. And yet in our subconscious there may be fervent recurrence of thoughts that would entertain him and make him blush in joy. But, there is no answer for him when he petitions and there comes back not an amen from the devils choir. The mind and heart of a man are dichotomous and may indeed be at odds with each other. Our minds are as weak as we allow, by infiltration of all kinds our defenses can be worn and will be wrought upon by the horde. But what a shield may be the true intent of heart, once humbled, once forlorn and forgotten but then redeemed- humility is a badge that can bear no stranger and he will admit to no boast.

Saving energy is what I wish I was doing. I just don't have any. I thought for a minute that I was going to get a second wind. I didn't. I am going through the motions for almost everything. I wonder when it was the last time I was able to let go, I mean really let go. Tonight, I fell asleep kid climbing around on me Curious George bumping out of the T.V.. Well, for whatever time I got there it was freaking spectacular. But, I was rudely awakened by a member of my family who I will not name. I was in one of those raging fits that people throw when they get stirred at the wrong moment. People with families perhaps know what this is like. It is an unbridled fury that has probably caused manslaughter in the past. Spit and cuss and nothing matters for about ten minutes until the sobriety of the situation sinks in. Those moments of complete unnatached ecstasy are very few as the years pile on me, at one time I tried to live with a Southern mentality that allowed me the luxury of enjoying every second if I chose to at my leisure and to the dismay of many. I eventually got caught up in the speed of life as dictated by whoever was pushing my buttons at the time and subsequently I was forced to seek out moments of solace. Now I don't go looking anymore, but as bloody wonderful as each of those elusive drops from heaven are indeed I don't have the energy to seek them out. I sometimes have even noticed that on occasion one will present itself like a white stag before me, and I will just smile inside and watch it. It is like it looks back at me and recognizes the futility of even trying to get a chase and I for a miniscule instant enjoy it as it is before me knowing the beauty it possesses and like a true realist I can have it by not having it. The damned romantic notion of chasing after such a thing is futility and there is nothing wrong with having a chase but maturity is looking back on the gold of past hunts and being able to remember the glory of it as it was. Because as it was is truly as it yet is.

Every so often I have one of many serial dream sequences. There is the dream in which I start out in a town somewhere vaguely familiar but not. The town contains elements of many places that I have seen or been. I am travelling in the dream, I am in the town but I am somehow not settled there. I these dreams I am not intimately involved with other people but I somehow clairvoyantly visit people in their homes. The funny thing is that I don’t know the people, if I appear in the dream I am making cameo appearances as someone else. Somehow the dreams always seem to end with me driving or walking across a bridge or through a forest on a high mountain road or just up a great hill where there is seemingly no end to the climb.