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12:20:2002 Entry: "Stan : Catamite Story"

Catamite Story

In my dream I did two things that I would never really need to do.

One was to spend time in a public space without a good reason for being there. As far as I see the only people who hang out in public spaces just to pass time are drug dealers and de-institutionalized mentally ill people. If I'm out in public I'm never alone unless I have some shopping to do or an appointment to keep. I think in America innocent people end up in jail every day for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, so I believe it's always important to be with friends in public. If I'm out alone it's for a purpose like going to work, to the grocery store etc., and never to just pass the time. The United States of America has never been a safe place as much as most people would like to say that it is. Now with the new Fascism Style Republican Government engaged in the so called 'New War' being in public is far less safe than it has ever been before.

Second I was waiting for inspiration so I could begin to write something like a story. This just doesn't happen to me, because I have a lot more ideas than I have time. In my creative life ideas have to stand in line if they even want a chance at being written down. Most of my ideas simply die of starvation while their waiting in line, and sometimes they get sent to the back of the line several times before I have time to put them into text. If it ever did happen to me that I had to sit and wait for inspiration I would assume that I'm already dead and simply haven't noticed that I had died.

On one level of this dream I was watching a smoke bomb under a stop sign while fire trucks were driving by on the street. Then I walked over to a public sculpture and sat on it for reasons I'll explain in the next part. An elderly woman approached me and said there was a gun and a brief case on the grass next to me, but I couldn't see anything but lawn. Then another smoke bomb went off next to a nearby stop sign and the elderly woman and I were watching it. The police came and began to question both of us about the smoke bomb. I didn't like the questions they were asking me because I didn't set off the bomb and they seemed to think I did. Then I woke up.

While I was sitting on the sculpture I was waiting for inspiration to write something (as if I don't have things to write), and an idea came to me. The idea was for a story book that explained where catamites came from (hell I suppose), like some kind of catamite genisis. So in this story when people were still living in caves catamites evolved accidentally like some sort of subspecies within the rest of the human species. The weird thing was that they came into being at the same time in human history all over the world where ever people lived. The story had no reasonable explanation for their appearance as a subspecies, it just seemed to be a spontaneous development. I found the idea very amusing as though it were some sort of Monty Python satire on the sort of thing I seriously write about.

By Stan @ 20:25 PM CST:12:20:02 ..::Link::..