Possumblog

What a dump!

Dreams again. Sorry. If you hate hearing about other people's subconscious meanderings ::coughJimSmithcough:: clock out now.

BUT FOR THE REST OF YOU, it happened again. Some people dream of flying, I seem to dream of a neverending universe of decaying backroads small towns. I don't know what it is, but once more I had a dream like that. Last night's drive took me through what seemed like several hours of incredibly broken-down towns and hamlets, and one in particular was almost a theme park ride of ticky-tacky tar papering. There was one giant old barnlike thing hard on the left side of the road (winding, two-lane, and oddly smooth) that was held up by a series of hundreds of 2x4 outriggers and stringers and such nailed onto the exterior walls and running down into the dirt. Further on down the road were similarly constructed (or deconstructing) houses and commercial buildings, but despite the appearance of things, life was quite lively around town with folks walking and driving about as if nothing was amiss.

Anyway, that was just one of the places, but the rest were similarly disarrayed. I realize it's probably asking too much, but it seems like I ought to at least be able to run across an out-of-gas and ever-so-grateful young Jane Russell every once in a while.