I seriously keep seeing a little girl that thinks she's my daughter. I’ve told her a few times that she's not born, she leaves, comes back and tells me she is. When I explain that is something that I would definitely know for sure, she mentions that her mom is just somewhere thinking about me. So I figure I’m going to live as if I’m supporting her and her mother. It will be good practice if nothing else.
i'm not believing that last letter because it does not support my delusion.
I wonder who that lady is... I had a dream again. I started at the epic dream hotel with all the options and they told me I won a contest. I got to fly to my own personal room that has been named for me, though the name would change after my use. And so we did the dream fly thing (me and anonymous lady) and wound up at this beach covered in smooth dark gray rounded stones. It was kind of cold, and the hotel room was just a wrought iron table and two chairs on this spit jutting into the ocean. So we landed at the table and a sun tent popped up, followed by a crowd of women. The lady told them all she knew to ruin the chance they would take me with them and then she told me that every time she did that it was because she was scared, and she was sorry that she ran away. Then she explained that we had signed up for a mini triathlon and it started (gunshot) now. So we dove into the water a swam for 13.7 kms. This was no problem for a guy of my physique, though I may have cheated by pretending to be inspector gadget. When we reached shore we had to run 8 kms to be half way, and there, we were told, would be rest. So about half way there on my map me and this lady were in a field and she gave me all these suggestions or something and then jumped towards me and I caught her. But we were so tired from the run that I fell over and couldn't carry her the rest of the way. At that point I fell asleep in the grassy field and was back at the rocky beach and table that was my personal hotel room. There were fewer women, but we were going to walk across the rocks and they were filled with broken glass. So I was picking up the broken glass and I was shipped back to the race. I ran down the path and got to the midway point and it was the same old two-room hotel in the woods. This time it was empty though I was so tired from the swim and the run that I didn't even nail this brunette who told me she wanted to during the swim... and while I fell asleep on the rickety porch of the forest shack I was back to picking up the broken glass. This is the point when you entered, (or my pretend thought version that I invented), and explained that there was no point to cleaning up all the broken glass because all women wore bras that were made of glass and as I break their hearts for other people's unrequited reasons, nonsense possessiveness and insecure ramblings than the glass is strewn on that particular beach. So, the brunette told me, I should care very little about anything I’d thought up to now. Even if I had left those notions behind since the last time I entered this triathlon.
Posted by Jon Pelletier at 11:50 AM