Miley

I had a Miley Cyrus dream a couple of night ago. I haven't been obsessing about her or her music lately, but the subconscious often does not run in clear parallel with one's conscious interests of the daytime. We seemed to be like college kids, or maybe even high-school kids. When she came up to me I went for a hug and she did not resist, and I got my squeeze of her tight body. She did not seem happy or overjoyed by my intimacy, but she readily accepted it. She said that we can meet up later after church. We seem to be kind of together. I have no idea where the church idea comes from, but I guess it only made the little dream more interesting.

Silences

I had my late-evening meal, but I had nothing to watch: no movies, no philosophical or literary discussions on YouTube that caught my imagination, and I didn't feel like watching a chess video either. So, I tried something radical. I just ate to my own random thoughts. I didn't even bother with music. It is a little painful, that awful sense of emptiness, with the disappointment that my own thought should be so ... anemic and pointless. But I can do it. And I consider that maybe I can use the quiet, to leave my brain free for a little while of cinematic gunfights and melodrama as well as from speechifying and arguments. A little zen-like, perhaps. Maybe I shouldn't be so frantic all the time to fight off such silences. Besides, a meal doesn't last that long, maybe twenty minutes at worst. I should be able to live with myself for that long, even if I am pretty sulky company.