Paris

Sometimes, now that I live in California, people will tell me about my aura. It’s always people that I barely know. When I was walking through the neighborhood this morning, a woman told me that I was not centered. She said it would be easy to find my center. At the end of the leash she was holding was one of those small white dogs with yellowed fur around its eyes. The kind with fur that looks like a very old rug. I ran away. It was socially acceptable to run away because I was wearing athletic clothing and running shoes. Another time, a woman told me that she could tell by holding someone’s hand whether the aura was clear. I did not offer her my hand. It’s anybody’s guess whether my aura is clear. When I got home from walking and running I spilled kale juice all over the floor. While I was cleaning it up I wondered what was going on. And then I remembered that I was not centered, and cleaning up the kale juice seemed like no big deal by comparison.

Dream: I am on a field trip to the top of some monument in Paris. Whatever monument it is doesn’t make any sense, because it’s surrounded by extremely tall skyscrapers that all look like the Chrysler building, which is not in Paris. To get a better picture of the urban scenery, I have to stand on the ledge. A dizzying sensation overwhelms me, and in my own dream I look at myself and assure me that it’s fine to be afraid of heights and that I don’t have to go up high anymore if I don’t want to. I go downstairs to the restaurant and eat green beans and drink water and beer. This is one of the best dreams I’ve ever had.

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