dear pooboy (summer solstice)

The summer solstice was shit without you. 
I saw my hands in my dream last night. 
I remember, because there were two handsome men trying to decide if the waters below were too shallow for them to jump from as high as they were, perched like little street birds atop a tall tree in a hurricane. They were scared, but I was calm. I was sleeping.  I was dreaming of these men. I was dreaming of these men facing their fears, when suddenly i realized I was there with them. I looked then at my hands, which were gripping so tightly this edge of a rock, while my feet dangled.  Suddenly, I was no longer calm, but certainly able to focus on the strengths I needed in order to not fall. 

Alas, as it always is, I never remember what happened next.  Did i fall? I'm not sure.  If I did, were the waters deep?  Again, my recollection trails instead back to another part of the dream, where perhaps I was partaking in a ride with these men in a convertible.  I think they were some sort of spies. 

If only such lucid moments of clarity would hold true in my waking life.  If only the external pressure I feel from this world were controlled by the mere fact that I remembered to look at my hands!  The guilt in the care not taken to look after my self would be swept up like a dog hairs, shed on summer ridden floors. Thrown away like there is no other option. 

Why is it then when I start to take control, I then begin to compete with me?  With myself?  

You know what I mean, carrying that tree and all. I mean it, I'm about ready to carry my own tree. 

Albeit a metaphor at best- it's time for me to seek my cave. Have you?  Were you there yet?  Cold and alone like we all desire to be? What sort of jerk has a friend like you and desires to be cold and alone?  How selfish of me!  But, no, you taught me this trick and I love you for it.  You taught me how to bring you to the cave with me, and that's how I know you are here now. 

Do you like me new sheets?

Kidding, of course. 

I miss you madly, and I will, sadly, not see you in July.  I do hope to see you soon.  I can smell you from here, wherever you are. 

Cut something with a knife for me, but not your rope. 

as always,

toothbrush