dreamed of my sisters as dogs.

one a calm german shepherd one a rabid mongrel.  they take turns.  i think the family tradition of alcohol and suicide come from the grandparents poverty as immigrants imported to work the sugar cane and pineapple fields 1900's.  mom and dad went through a lot.  third generation too.  

being out of body is tough

all those years numbed by abuse everything hurts now.  i'm not clumsy, i'm out of balance.  that's the pain too.  mom called me stupid, dumbo.  i had big ears and the memory of an elephant.  i think it's aspergers.  i remember in blocks like a picture book but then sometimes i get 'messages' that seem to have no connection until reality catches up.  like the things i save that fit perfectly into my life years after i save them.  usually 10 years.  the little crystal lotus fits perfectly into the larger crystal votive holder.  and last night i realized my  pink marble dream house is a bagua.