I fell asleep listening to the Talking Heads and reading a Tom Robbins novel. It is likely that this is partially accountable for the strange-yet-wonderful dream I had very early this morning...
I was standing in front of a two or three story building, brown of color and brick of construction. It was a fairly modern building, and I found myself feeling a sort of despair. See, in the dream, this building was representative of a sort of new life. I was acutely aware of the sensations of burned bridges and groundlessness. And this building in front of me, this mundane, modern building, was a sort of home, my new little place in the world. It was welcoming, but I found myself feeling resentful, as it obviously lacked the charm and quaintness of the older buildings I've grown up around. I found myself feeling suspicious and doubtful: I will never really be happy in this building... This is not me; this is not right for me...
But I happened to look above the doorway of this building, and noticed for the first time, a set of letters that identified the building. They were painted gold letters, a lot like the ones that used to hang on the side of the Olde World Deli, before David started the trend of pulling those letters off, one by one, beginning with one of the L's...
The letters read: CORE STELL. And I was filled with a sort of blissful knowledge that everything would be okay, and that this was indeed, a matter of Perfect Timing.
My alarm went off, and I awoke with a start. But my mind kept repeating: Core Stell, Core Stell, Core Stell...
Pronounce it phonetically: core stell. Pronounce it BACKWARDS, phonetically...
LET'S ROCK!
It was a good, good, good day.
~Helena*