place on the hill

I’m really sorry if I forgot to post this here before.

I could use some text with this.

I had this dream a thousand times before. But this time I got with my old friend, up into a place on the hill.

It was amazing; we found all these amazing kind people and they had this media library. And meanwhile we hung out with them and swapped bread, up in gardens up in high hills of Los Angeles (not real).

Update: late post. Just something I want to post here, with all its raggedy pieces, after all this hell I got into with some of you.

and thanks for not fucking banning me.  

Walled gardens in Los Angeles. We just kind of found them.

We swapped bread. Really good bread. In gardens on hills.

Wow, how is that for dream metaphors? In the middle of fucking Los Angeles?

Best dream I’ve had in ten years. Now, we have to continue to reinvent stuff like that. Religious dream garden up in the middle of an imaginary hill in the middle of Century City?

With hippy freaks and gardens and nobody knows they are there?

And there are winged children who let you in the strangely gated door?

I mean; think about it.

Now that we gots us our new and improved blog here…/

well, first thing I have to say is that I am all frissoning all over ma BODY with this rocking out changeness.

Srsly. I started having good dreams about magical helpers up there on the heights of Century City in Los Angeles (I lived in Los Angeles for decades)

The Magical Helpers were there up on the hills, after you walk up all the steps.

The steps are limestone. There are plants while you walk up the big steps.

Then, there is a door!

It’s a beautiful wooden door, about six feet tall.

But before that, there were those kids you saw while you were walking up the stone stairs in Century City. The ones who were there while you were walking up the stairs.

You were always walking up the stairs to Century City. But your dreams never brought you there before.

The stairs are more recent. Before that, you walked and walked across the land. You walked and walked, trying to get back from downtown Los Angeles, and to the coast.

http://www.dailykos.com/story/…

And from then, up the coast up the coast.

&&&

But..back to the walled garden, peoples.

Once we got in there – me and a lost brillant kind of schizo friend, lost long ago…

We were in. We were in.

They were artists. They had gardens.

Me and my lost friend; we came in and we were asked to sit down and talk. It was so happy. So friendly .

They offered us bread. I had my own bread because me and my lost friend had brought bread. Though, we had no idea we were coming to this walled place with all that amazingness.

We just walked our way up there.