Dream I

Date: 11/8/2016

I met in my wandering a group of quarrelsome friends. There was one among them who alone lived on a bridge. There was an apartment on top -- he did not live in homelessness. His friends, though, judged him for this and joked. Fickle is the beast of jest. He was angered by this and made a fuss. I walked with them to their cars as they made their pacts and resolutions. I was transferred to pitch-dark night near the water of the fens. Boats punctuated night's darkness with their flouressence. I then traveled with lillian and her kind bohemian friends. She had good friends and recieved good gifts from them. We went on bikes through the woods of Portland. She was kind to me, and I to her in return as we went. We biked through trail-ways past many delivery attendants. We sat in modern homes, and also danced. Her beautiful friend smiled with me and flirted. I never reciprocated, it is not how I wanted it. She took off her underclothes in the car in the interim as we went. She wanted to entice me, but I didn't partake her glances. It is easy to loose aggressive women's attraction: do not accept their baits. The forests seemed to bloom in our tread on the way. I told lillian I cried as if a spirit had been in me. She said she too knew how that heaviness felt. The look into her eyes in that moment was All the interchange I had ever needed. The assurances of all the world was in her glance.