TMi

The footbridges are public toilets crossing over a public toilet. The worst  comes at the end, but nearer to the middle; beginning on the Thursday or Friday-and/or depending on the moon phase, maybe Tuesday at about 10:30am. Since December, my cycles brought me to the point of illness. Three months in a row of miserably failing to fight off little microbes. Lucky me, that pattern was nicely broken with a few nearly simultaneous incidences. -A break in. On a busy Friday evening, not quite so late, a young man picked one of the locks and walked into our place. We were home. We were right there. It was obvious people were around, but he came on in anyway. The Human ran him off and we have since actually got the door fixed. Sleep has been rather elusive since that night for the both of us. -A.. how shall I say? Shit flinging? A 'client' chewed me out for the pettiest reasons at just the right moment to send me spiraling further into panic attacks. I won't go into i

So to the sea, to the sea  Where I sent my dreams I went to that shifting shore to gather them back to me Those hopes taking the shapes of Abandoned spidery exoskeletons, bladder wracks and worn glass All at my feet once more for the taking Exquisite things, new with salt memories and feelings of vast expanses...

The sun came out after two days of much, much needed rain. I would not have known. I was at the laptops (two, yes) catching up- since the power finally decided to stay on after all. Then there was this noise outside that was beginning to distract me more and more. I ran out to figure out what parading was going on this time.  Just before all the Oscar crap came on the tv,  a Carnival parade disrupted the traffic for a half hour, or so. Let me just say, Brazil can keep it's bare-assed women. This parade was children in feathers: a mildly organized rabble of confused youth, hot rod cars, a tractor, a large blue djinn from the Aladdin cartoon, Amazon girls on horses, confetti, loud music; all with a sleek touring bus from Guadalajara stuck in the middle.  P.S. Dubbed Oscars sucks. I'm in the other room, not looking at interesting gowns and penguin cloned men so it sounds terrible! The Human wants to see who wins this time. Gods know why.