and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

It's funny people's perceptions of the world around them sometimes, but almost more humourous is their infinite wisdom and insight into other people's worlds.

It's always easier when it ain't your kid, isn't that how the saying goes? I dunno. Anyhow, advice is cheap and easy to find but good advice is like gold and more rare than the siberian sun on christmas eve, and that's what I could use about now. Good advice.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not expecting it or holding out for it but I'm just saying it could do me some real good if it was offered, if I saw it for what it was - if I recognized it - and most importantly, if I wanted to take it.

That's the biggest problem with good advice - it's most often the kind that people don't want to take. Like syrupy medicine that tastes like your aunt's brandy or chaulky pasty stuff that makes you feel like elmer's glue inside as you wheeze on the couch watching Rockford files re-runs, thinking about your lab partner at school disecting that frog all by herself. Nobody wants to disect a frog by themselves and, well, if they do then they aren't the kind of people that are important to this particular post so I'll move on..

A lot of the advice I get these days - heck, it could be good advice for all I know - but it seems a lotta hogwash. People seeing me painted in a corner and telling me to break the window just to get the hell out of there. But I derno, folks.. sometimes you gotta just watch the paint dry and when it's dulled and tacky you can just tip-toe across in your socks, hold your sneakers in your hand and slowly close the door with a creak as if, almost, you were never there. Course somebodies gotta finish painting that corner, that's the gist of it. It's not foolproof. What I really need is foolproof advice and the sad thing about it is,

it doesn't exist.

Nothing in this life is certain, not even the morning newspaper, the tequila sunrise, or the assurance of another night in Paris, right? So why count on good advice? Why expect it to even work?

Sometimes grasping at straws is all you've got.

So they ask me, a lot of people, what I think I'm doing. They think I'm crazy and can't see the forest cause I'm stuck on one little tree and I can't really think of anything to tell them. I don't have a good explaination or reason. I never have a reason. It's really, in the end, cause I just gotta believe.

Suspension of disbelief.

The forced halt of thought.

I said before how thought - questioning reality - it's really just disbelief in motion and without it, we'd have ubiquitous logic. Ubiquitous logic being quite the opposite of what one might think - that is to say, it's very dangerous. Think about it - no lottery. You think for a second anyone would play powerball if they only had their logic faculties about them? And life - most of the really big decisions - it's really just a big lottery. Taking risks and chances. Going for the big time. Giving it a shot. Trying.

I saw a re-run of Letterman last night with Jerry Seinfeld and he asked, during his stand-up routine, why the human brain has crazy useless thoughts. "Why," he asked, "does my brain say things like 'I could stab this guy with these scissors, right now' when it's a completely useless thought? I can't use that thought. It's wasted!" It's funny because we're taught, by a two-pronged attack of life, that logic is sound and crazyiness is beautiful, all at the same time. It's funny because we think we believe that stabbing people with scissors isn't a good idea but a tiny part of us, that little tiny bundle of nerves in the back, thinks that maybe, just maybe, it might be a good idea.

You never know.

Whatever can happen will happen.

Expect the unexpected.

Sometimes they ask me if I know what she thinks. Idaho, Alaska. They tell me that maybe I should just lay it out there - on the line so to speak - and "get it over with" as if this were all just a big chore and I'm looking to go home. Some of them, they've even told me that I should just give up.

Whoo-aa, I say. Fault me for my optimism. Fault me for my patience. Fault me for my belief that good things - really good things - are worth working for. But don't blame me for my disbelief of what is seemingly the logic of my life. It's only human nature. For now I'll believe the possibility is there, I'll believe I'm seeing the world through curved mirrors that are distorting the truth, I'll believe that my hopeless thoughts, my despair, my sadness, I'll believe they aren't real. I'm going to really try because, after all: do or do not, there is no try. I'm going to wait till I hear it from her: truly, that all those negative vibes, they really are real.

And then I'm gonna ask her if she's lying.

A guy can hope, can't he?

sales of tony's how to blog skyrocket and he is booked for a tv appearance
+++
i'm still waiting for jaime's book