Low energy. It's more than a passing thing. It's an illness. I'm sick.

Give it more than a cursory glance, the value of an ideal is not in compromise, but in promise. Promise of things better still. I'm still waiting.

I get the feeling I should be reaching beyond my circumstances, but this is no time to press the issue. It's no time to turn a blind eye or a deaf ear. So what now?

For thoughts less liberated, this is my independence. Wanting no more exclusion, standing by for the realization that always seems to move so slowly.

I've got to move.

Couldn't get enough.

It seems J1 and J2's mom needed me after all. No longer two hours each a week, it'll be 6 hours a week for J1. Holy carp. I hope I'll still have a life with this tutoring schedule. Then again... maybe it's better to keep busy. For now.

Sometimes you have to think about what it all means...

Every day, some time in the morning, I would see Scott's mom walking across the courtyard. There were two versions of her though. The first version was the normal, modern day version, but the other one was medieval vintage and could toss fireballs. Every time I passed by her in the medieval version, she'd toss fireballs at me, and I'd toss some back at her. Neither of us would get hit, but each day we got better at throwing them, and pretty good at dodging them too. I'd even toss them at her when she was in her modern day version, only because she started it in the first place. She wore a helmet, so it was no biggie. I made fun of her for wearing a helmet.

A few days later, Scott's family invited me on a trip they were taking (a sudden change of heart?) We walked up a hill to the cul de sac where they were parked and they suggested that I drive. They had two Land Rovers, and I didn't know which one they were talking, but they hopped in and tossed me the keys. Then I took at their ride. It was a raised Land Rover, but the running boards were almost ten feet off the ground, with no ladder or steps! I didn't pay attention when they got in, so I figured I'd have to jump up and grab the running board somehow.

When I did grab it finally, I wasn't holding onto the running board, but it turned into a step. There were grooves running down the length of the step so I could hold on with my fingers. I couldn't get my legs onto a step for some reason, but I kept climbing more steps with only my arms. After a few more steps I realized I was climbing the side of some strange pyramid with easy to climb grooved steps. There were people sitting on the steps, and I got the strange feeling I was an extra in a music video.

Then for some reason there were some actors in the stands. They started fighting, and then I figured out they were reenacting the riot at the Palace at Auburn Hills where some of the Pacers jumped into the stands and had at it with some Piston fans. There wasn't the same violence though.

End Scene.

Wake up. These dreams are getting weirder than ever.

What's so different?