Thursday, July 6, 2017


This is real, right from where I
was today. Let me say : three nutcase
guys in a row, each making me look
better by far. First guy walks out of the
doorway, towards me, and trips on 
something and comes flying right at
me instead.  Got himself back up, to
begin muttering anew, and walked off. 
A second guy, sitting by me on the grass,
in a lotus position, has been talking a mile
a minute or something (someone) in the
air. Bounds up, comes over, to ask me 
what time the library opens (it's been open
at least a half-hour already), and then asks
if I think they'll have a book, which he 
doesn't know the title of but can only
describe the cover of, by colors, and it's 
about a freaked-out guy who flees to 
Jamaica to cured of civilization's rot
but instead ends up in worse shape 
and more intensely crazy from their 
influence there upon him. I said 
I hadn't a clue on that on. Then, yes,
the third guy comes over - so now I
have two in front of me, plus that one
that walked away. The third guy says
to me, (why me? I'm sitting on a library
lawn using free air and only be necessity),
'do you think they'll have all of Castenada
in there?' I said 'You mean Carlos, and all
that Don Juan stuff, the peyote and the
spiritual stories from the 70's and 80's?'
He said yeah (sure, why not, remember 
this is Woodstock).  I said, 'Sure they'll
have that. This is Woodstock, and if they
don't have it, hell, I'd report them.' I asked
if he'd read them, and he said 'yeah, a lot.'
So I couldn't figure that at. As a local he'd
already know if or not they had the book,
and if he'd read them he then must have
his own copies. Confusing. So I said : 'Let's 
think. Is a mirror reflecting reality? Or is
reality reflecting the mirror (which
contains that reality's image?'

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