ughh,..this dream…..white guys are a riot, or at least they’re trying to be.

this just in;
buddy has extended his empire;

my friend steve started a non-profit, computer rehab/recycle program that finds second-lives for the old macs and PCs and gets them on desks in front of people who would not otherwise have this opportunity. i had loads of computers and monitors and peripherals and all sorts of stuff because when i see them i have a habit of taking them home.
years ago, i used to rescue televisions and bicycles. i don’t really want to talk about it. i’m feeling much better now.
anyway, steve gifted me with the computer that buddy is sleeping on (above). fro all i know, bits of the macs i gave him may have found their way back into my life through this process and i’m ok with it.
thanks, steve.
if you have computers and/or gear that you want to give a second life and live in the metropolitan area, like where goodbye blue monday is (and the boroughs around it (BK)), contact stephen barnes (stephenambarnes@gmail.com) and tell him what you have.
but i digress.

a few days ago, this happened;
i walk past a mirror, see my reflection and ask, “what the fuck happened to him?”
i said it aloud and kept walking.
this is one of those moments when good self-image is not your friend.
it’s “the stranger i’ve become.”
i step back and face the mirror for a second time.
i look at this confused geezer who doesn’t seem to know who or where he is. “who is this guy?” i ask, squinting at the reflection.
he’s a guy who wakes up in a black and white twilight zone episode, one that has the character thinking he’s been swept away in his sleep and put into a fake house with fake furniture and fake food. this all happens in the blink of an eye.
here and gone, just like that.

i need to step back.
i need to take a moment and go to the glossary.
seems i haven’t been there in “a dog’s age”.

arf.

20. – Mnemonic – A special memory aid or trick designed to help students learn and remember a specific piece of information.
until finding this glossary, my nearest brush with this word was “johnny mnemonic” an almost viewable movie with keanu reeves from the mid nineties.
there, i used it in a sentence, more or less.

this just reminded me that he was in scrap bar one night, probably in the late 80’s, before he was johnny M.
lisa raff, one the scrap bar darlings, pointed him out to me.
i had no idea who he was at this point in my cultural history.
this is because the film “bill and ted’s excellent adventure” wasn’t high on my list of films i needed to see.
it’s twenty years later and i don’t think i’ve seen this film yet, but i do know who keanu reeves is now.

before i go on and mention the growing dirty bomb that racist white guys in america are becoming, i need to write about the dream i had this morning upon waking.
it was a dream that was grey and brown, almost like viewing things through a kinescope – sort of grainy and dated. it seemed like it was screened “for” me more than it was “about” me.
i wasn’t in the dream, i was sitting apart from it.
it wasn’t all about me, but it was all about me.
it was a simple reminder. there wasn’t very much a subject line.
i watched as two people conversed, one of them saying that goodbye blue monday wasn’t mine, it was lent to me. i didn’t know who these people were because i couldn’t see them.
it shook me up, sure. i’m still reeling from it. i woke up feeling out of balance, like upon waking, i was hit with a roundhouse punch and couldn’t separate waking from dreaming.
in there, in this netherworld, i was berating myself for not being out the window hours earlier to see the meteor shower yet again.
same thing every year. makes me wonder if my only opportunity for me will be when i’m sparking and sputtering at the speed of time and light, as i skit and skat from here to there, somewhere between this moment and the eighth-electro-plasma-ocean of the ninth dimension, when everything is a meteor shower and everysecond is the fourth of july and the birth and death of a galaxy, a star, a child, an idea, a song, a planet, an island, a member of the grucci family, a cell, a maggot, or a movement.

if you visit here with any consistency, you knew that was coming.

i’m not hammering home any celestial point other than the one that says that the google link with those words in quotes is ten pages long and i find it hilarious.
i’m my own best audience at times.
other times, not so much, if you know what i’m saying.
i think this, when i passed the mirror, is one of these times.
yes, i’m still about the moment before the mirror. i may stray and find other things to speak about, but it’s in the confines of that mirror even if i don’t think so.

did i ever get to that conversation with me and that lizard guy who sounds like eduardo cianelli and looks like omar sharif?
damn.
i owe.

About stephen trimboli

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