Sunday morning, freakin' seven AM!  I should be in my bed, enjoying a long sleep in just because this is one of those days my boss doen't need me at work. But no: once I wake up with that unconfortable feeling in my chest, I know the drill: I can toss and turn whatever I want, but it won't go away until I give up, and just get out of bed.

And  for what? OK, doing Moorelife is fun enough, but the only other stuff waiting for me is grunt work: dishes, folding the laundry, cleaning up after kids and dogs. Sure, there's always the dreaming about and longing for that which is simply out of reach.

And last night's movie didn't really help: I feel like the Sorcerer's Apprentice alright, but not like the one at the end of the movie. No, the guy about halfway, who put on his sneakers again, and silently left the building to contemplate his failure.

Just as an interlude, the movie itself was great, and shows that the illusion can really look way better than whatever you think is the reality. Cage (as the Sorcerer) has always been a favorite of mine, and seeing Monica Belucci again after her role as the Frenchman's wife in one of the Matrix episodes also was quite fun. But right after you  leave the theater, there is maybe half an hour of excited chatter about how good it was, before reality kicks in.

Sure, I can engage my fantasy, think up the greatest things ever concocted, but none of it will ever feel more real than this prison here, which everyone keeps telling me I made for myself. Well, if that is so, I am one sick puppy who should be put to sleep!

But there is no such thing of course: death is an illusion, so ending is an illusion, just like the Big Bang is. The only realities here are those dishes, this site, and about a dozen snails who have gathered themselves around my garden door as if to say: "Don't be such a wuss! You can be faster than us!" Sure I can, that is not the point. Point is, where do I take all that awesome speed and power?

Well, at least the Gulf Oil Spill seems to have subsided. I'd like to think my meditations had quite a bit to do with that, but the reality is, I have no shred of proof. But then again, if I had any proof, it would only be part of the Grand Illusion, and thus no proof at all....

In the end, the only thing I can conclude is that I Am. Everything else might be, but I Am! And I  Am going to just do whatever it takes, to get back to that one state of mind where I Am actually quite pleased with myself. Why? Dunno. Maybe because it beats feeling like shit? So on to the other articles of the day, and those dishes, and maybe some hanging on the couch, conjuring up better worlds. But then again, what is better? No Dre', enough ranting. Get cracking!

Have a great day......

Dre'