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Somewhere in the well of night, he discovered streams of energy and creativity. With Amazon streaming a movie, the cats asleep in the office around him and a single desk lamp on, he started typing short stories. None of them were greater than three thousand words. Most were flash fiction.

Three movies later, dawn’s light was creeping in around the blinds. He was spent. Normally, he would then pragmatically edit the stories before submitting them. This time, he thought, what the hell. A few were submitted for publication but six of them were just posted on his blog. Basking in the glow of his accomplishments, he was surprised and pleased to see one quickly collected views and likes.

Then there was a comment awaiting approval. Opening it up, he read, “I don’t know how you found out the truth, but you should not have published it, you fucking idiot. They’re going to come for you. Resign yourself because you can’t hide. They will kill you. Do what you can to save all your loved ones.”

He read through the comment three times, furrowing his brow more with each reading. It didn’t make any sense at all.

These stories were all science fiction.

Coffee Dreams

A mug of hot coffee warms my hands against the April’s winter shadow. I sit with my dreams and myself to think.

My dreams took a different turn last night. It feels like a turn for the better. Although multiple elements seen in past dreams, like being in class to learn and working with technology, were present, the dream most sharply recalled featured spilled coffee.

A thirty year old version of myself, I was at a huge room. I thought of it partly as a classroom but also as a work center. It was enormous, as large as say, an NBA basketball area. It was dark, with low task lights doing most of the illuminating. Rows of consoles with work stations filled it. Each work station feature a personal computer but also a link to a master computer. They also had television monitors, telephones, and CD/DVD players and burners. Most were unoccupied.

I’d never seen them before but now was working at one, or trying to make it work. I was holding a cup of coffee. The cup was plain, low and white with a handle. It seemed to be ceramic, nothing fancy. Coffee kept slopping out when I moved. I became aware of this and mildly frustrated. Most of my frustration was that I didn’t want to spill on the work station. Magically, the cup didn’t seem to actually lose much coffee between drinking and spilling from it.

A man and a woman who I didn’t know came up behind my station. They talked about me like I wasn’t present, yet were watching my work and commenting on it, with the woman, slender and white, with dark hair piled on her head, and dressed in a pale yellow and white gown, was telling the man, a white guy in shirt sleeves, khakis and glasses, that she was thinking of helping me. She noted how I made some of the same mistakes that she’d made. This prompted me to focus harder and think more carefully about what I was doing, which was typing. The keyboard was wrong, with the keys spaced awkwardly, even haphazardly, forcing me to struggle and repeat the typing.

When I spilled coffee for the third time, she commented on it, almost as a joke. I explained that I knew why I was spilling coffee, observing that the handle was too small for my fingers but didn’t extend enough for me to grip with more of my hand, so my grip was precarious and not balanced. The cup had a shallow draft in my opinion, with a wide mouth, and that’s why the coffee easily spilled out as I moved around. She seemed impressed with the explanation.

Walking across the work space, I came to where a teach sat with students. The teacher wasn’t anyone I know, but was young, white with dark hair in a bob. She was talking to the students in a chatty, happy voice. The other students were my age or a little younger. I was dismayed that they all seemed to be on a break. She was using the break as a teaching and bonding opportunity. I heard her say, “We all have work to do but you can work at your own pace.” I was happy working, because I had a problem and I wanted to solve it, so I decided to return to work.

But then I thought that I’d watch a movie. I had a DVD in hand. I don’t know what movie it was. I realized, though, that I could put the movie on at my station and watch it there, while I worked, so I turned to do that. When I did, I spilled coffee a fourth time.

That made me smile.

Awaking this morning and thinking about the dream, I felt empowered, invigorated and optimistic. I can’t say why. Was it the spilled coffee? I put a lot of faith in coffee to help me think, focus and work, but that was usually around preparing and drinking it, and not spilling it.

Coffee is associated with get up and go with me. Drinking coffee is part of my rituals for preparing to do multiple things, from writing, cleaning and yard work to washing the car and traveling. So the coffee in the dream is about entering a new stage of activity. The moments of sitting and taking a few sips of coffee is always the cusp of a new beginning for me, a signal to start. Spilling it was important because it didn’t matter to me or anyone else. The cup was limitless; more coffee was always there.

From all that, I decided, I’m ready to step up my pace of work and activity. I have the coffee, now let’s get to it.

Today’s Theme Music

“I’ve been happy lately, thinking about the good things to come.”

I love that sentiment. Sometimes I actually have the satisfaction of experiencing it as well. At those times, I think, “Really? With all the world crap happening, and the misfortune being experienced, I’m happy, and thinking about the good things to come.”

Maybe I’m insane or irrationally hopeful. Maybe I’m just an optimist, or perhaps I’m attuned to something else others can’t yet see or feel yet.

Yeah, I’m staying with insane.

Cat Stevens wrote the line I opened with and sang it in 1971 hit, ‘Peace Train’. Cat Stevens converted to Islam a few years later and took the name, Yusuf Islam. Some hold that against him.

I don’t. I enjoy his music and wish him well. ‘Peace Train’ is good theme music to hum as you take on the world today. Let its words and melody lift you up, just a little, this first day of April.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eaNtV_iU61U

 

Pawsession

A cat establishes its pawsession by putting its paw over something, in effect, non-verbally stating, “This is mine.” For example, while sitting at the keyboard, your cat jumps up and puts its paw over the keyboard. “This is mine.”

However, felines, being inscrutable (although we think we might know, suspect or believe what they’re saying) may actually be establishing a pawstraction. The cat is stopping you for engaging in other behavior because it’s distracting you from paying more attention to them. In the instance of the keyboard, they may actually be saying, “Stop doing this and pay attention to me.”

Closely related to these behaviors, clawsession or clawsessive behavior is demonstrated when the cat engages a claw as part of its pawsessive or pawstracting activity. In example, a cat, wishing you to awaken, may tap your nose or other body part with its paw. The cat may be saying either, “You are mine,” “I want you to wake up,” or “Stop snoring, you’re keeping me awake.” They may also be saying, “I like playing with your body,” or, “I’m playing with your mind.” If a claw is deployed as part of this, say to tenderly hook a nostril or an ear lobe to drag you awake, this is clawsessive behavior.

Of course, they are cats, so your cat’s actions may mean something completely different.

I think that’s part of their clawdestine behavior.

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