Hic Vigilans Sonnambula...

To borrow from Richard Brautigan, if I may, it's "another Saturday night in Goddamn, Goddamn..."
I'm so fucking tired, inside and out. I'm burned out. I'm forcing myself to write this, only because I feel I have to, let alone need to, I'm afraid if I don't, it will go away forever and I'm just as afraid of wasting my time. Not that I have anything pressing to do. Bathroom is pretty much wrapped up, just a few odds and ends that can be attended to in moments just as odd and to whatever end. The grounds are entering their late-summer doldrums, not much to do there, either. I've blown the house budget on the bathroom, so I don't have any funds to address the much needed restoration of the trough gutters on the front and back of the house, not enough funds to do much of else, either.
So, here I sit on a Saturday night, trying to find something to tell you, trying to find anything to tell myself. It's almost the full moon tonight, maybe I'll just go sit outside later and see if she has any tales to tell.
Perhaps I shall see the dragon tonight. It's been away for a while, but I've sensed it in darks of night lately, it's breath in the shadowy mists, it's scent in the air, that ancient odor of the world that some might mistake for the smell of humid decay that runs the woods this time of year... but I know better. We're old friends, the dragon and I, and it's been some time since last we engaged in Coup passe. It's the dance we do, the dragon and I. It keeps us honest with each other. It keeps it all fair, and fair it must be. We are equals, the dragon and I, in more things than not and she once carried me into the deep of the night wrapped in a wing and floated me into that deeper and darker part of the night on her warm breath, and lulled me into that world of the sleeping awake, her great yellow eye looking down on me as bright and bold, but as loving as the moon... and that's not a bad place to be on another Saturday night in Goddamn, Goddamn...

wander with me...



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