A placid lake. Ducks fly overhead. Water lilies spin slowly in a lazy breeze. By the water, a fox naps on a sun-warmed rock. All is quiet and peaceful. The only sound is the gentle slapping of wave on shore. 

Suddenly, a rumbling from the bottom of the lake. The lake’s inhabitants barely have time to get out of the way before a massive, blocky spaceship roars out of the lake, climbing fast, water pours off it in huge gouts. 

At first, it rises with powerful majesty, like a king rising from his throne, but soon it is stooping skyward like a homesick angel, and withing moments, it disappears into the clear blue sky and nothing is left of it but a faint glow in the sky, which soon fades. 

All is as it was. 

Except that now, the USS Shining Star has once more risen from the pages of history to save the galaxy in its most desperate hour. 

And things will never be the same again. 

That image – the blocky space ship majestically emerging from the water – has been popping into my head a lot lately, so I thought I would share it.

It’s an intenselty positive and hopeful image in my mind. It’s an image of transcendence- of lifting myself out of my rut, my problems simply flowing away like water, and my emerging tstrong and powerful and amazing and ready to kick industrial quantities of ass at long last.

In my mind, it’s done anime style. I am pretty sure that’s where I got the image of the blocky spaceship that looks kind of like an office building covered in bright colorful circuitry patterns came from too.

The sory parts of it came to me as I wrote the thing down. I seem to have come up with something rather intriguing. The idea of this legendary spaceship that most people think is a myth suddenly emerging from where it has lain, waiting for the time of greatest need, would make a pretty good start for a novel.

And there would be so many questions to answer. Like, who is inside the thing? Does it have a full crew of human spacedogs? Or is it all rum by a single AI? Maybe the crew are robots, or aliens, or robot aliens.

Maybe not only is there no crew,  but if you were to cut up the side of it, all you would see insane is a big pink slab of meat that twitches and wriggles in its slime.

Or maybe there would be nothing. Nothing at all.

Doesn’t seem like the sort of thing that I would normally write, but then again, I am busy opening myself up to everything I can and therefore highly receptive to things which will lead to new patterns of existence.

Doing a story unlike anything I have ever written before could fit the bill perfectly. It’s something different and new, but not so huge a change that I balk at it.

And who know what this galactic King Arthur can do? Or the evil it will fight?

I can’t wait to find out.

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Today’s blogging, part duex : La Saison Mauvaise! 

So there I was this afternoon, seething at my computer, filled with rage.

And I didn’t know why.

I have nothing new to be mad about. Just the same ol’ existential despair at my humiliating life and my inability to do anything about it and thoughts of radical solutions involving public nudity.

So, you know. Normal stuff like that.

But I had this growing burning hot rage and it made me hate the whole fucking world because everything hurts and I want to hurt it back and blah blah madness increasing maybe today is the day I finally go crazy.

I wasn’t too worried. True, this is an unusual event in my life, but I am going through some much needed changes lately and part of that is tapping into some of that vast reservoir of unexpressed rage and just dealing with the consequences and/or trying to keep it a controlled eruption that doesn’t send boiling hot lava and tar into any densely populated parts of my island.

Um. the one inside my head. Not the one I come from.

But I was getting a little worried. I have a terrible fear of letting the rage volcano overflow the barriers into action and cause me to actually doing something crazy, so I had a little bit of concern that such a thing might be imminent.

But then it struck me why I burned with the white hot rage of a hundred suns.

It’s because I was really freaking hot!

I had once again forgotten that if season=summer,. afternoon=hell for me and so I forgot that I knew that all this was going to happen and, in theory, could have taken precautions against it.

Like moving to Alaska, for instance.

Like every year, I find myself pondering the wisdom of the siesta. What a smart thing it is to sleep through the worst part of the heat.

I can’t imagine sleeping ALL afternoon, though. I would feel like a third of my day had been stolen. Plus, the sort of sleep I get when it’s super hot out is not good.

The phrase “fever dream” comes to mind.

There’s more than one way to go through hell, and asleep is not one I would recommend to my worst enemy.

Not that I have enemies.

People have to care about you for that.

Plus they have dislike you, and I am pretty hard not to like. I am sweet, nonthreatening, silly, funny, charming, disarming, and a really nice person.

I guess if I am being honest, I probably do have enemies. Or at the very least, people who think I am annoying as fuck or full of myself or, heaven forbid, one of those people who “thinks they are smarter than everyone else. ”

But that is so not true! I don’t think I’m smarter than everyone else.

I mean, there’s over 7 billion people in the world. That’s a lot of competition.

I do, however, think I am smarter than most of the people I have ever met.

And I have the test scores to prove it!

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.