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Dream Journal

Dream of a Store called Beached

Hanging out for what seemed like hours in this rich/upscale home. It was mine, or a relative’s, or someone who liked me very much. I was at a long, luxurious dinner party, in a charming and tastefully lit loft, with a rack of fur coats on hangers. This dream must have been earlier in the night, as it set the scene for another dream.

Friends of mine — or perhaps I, myself — opened up a new storefront called “Beached”. It was in a hipstery neighborhood blending part of London, San Francisco’s Mission, LA, and Berlin’s Kreuzberg. The store was angled from the storefront, and was structured around a large communal swimming pool, with a bar, changing areas off to the side, and an upper level with a jacuzzi lounge and clothing boutique. Reecy was there as part of an opening day crew. The store proved very trendy, and was a commercial success.

Later during this day’s events I would end up going to LiquidRom, but did not manage to fully write down the dream beforehand.

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Blog

(via Matt Mullenweg)

Bedeviled, human,
your plight, in waking,
is to choose from the words
that even now sleep on your tongue,
and to know that tangled among them
and terribly new
is the sentence that could change your life.

from “The Meadow” by Marie Howe

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Blog

Hello world!

Somewhere along the bumpy road of life I made a wrong turn and ended up in a metaphor, and so on that day a new and strange repository of words was born on the side of that road

and you, dear reader, ended up reading my poorly-thought-out dedication marker located just beyond the accident-scarred collision barrier of that road

and now you’re thinking about how safely you drive your own metaphors

but it’s ok — because when metaphors crash, they don’t crash like airplanes, they crash like couches

YES, THIS IS THE ACTUAL FIRST POST OF ORI.NZ