Sleep Dream.  I’m at the Elati block. As if in 623’s yard. There are no fences, so that Tori’s yard is visible and boundary-less, barrier-less. It’s a mellow sunned day. I walk across Mauro’s yard. St. Mark’s Eddie is in Tori’s yard. He now owns her house. He sees me and starts walking toward me. He looks worried, deeply concerned. Tori’s yard is all tilled soil, rich and dark, but with nothing planted or sprouting. I know that Eddie wants to pour out his heart about how incredibly difficult it is to create a home, to have a garden. “I just don’t know how to do it!” his sad eyes say. He is heavy and silent. I’m not sure how involved I want to get. His issues are so enormous. But I don’t feel helpless to be sucked into his dreck. To rescue, as was the situation for me with Tori.

I go inside Tori’s house and there is a laid back pot-head party going on. Red-headed Connie D. from H&H is there. We don’t talk. I float about, not talking and decide to leave. It is night outside. The house is now in NE Denver, a Black neighborhood. As I approach my car, Connie, loud and animated, accompanies a group of people to their car, parked ahead of mine. She is effusing about some musical group performing that night. “They are SO good! You absolutely should go see them!”

Dream Associations.  Writing about Connie, I’m aware of how her stoned, super enthusiasm, while cute and charming, felt so fake to me. She felt so untrustable. Her abusive relationship with Drew. Not being able to focus. A twit, so often. Certainly an aspect of myself.

Eddie, too, a reflection of part of me.