I can't find a picture of what I dreamed last night. It was a sort of Iron Man Mask, but it was the real person's face turned into a shell. Hard to explain. Bill was a buyer for USC for 30-40 years. He worked for me about a year or so. He bought the things nobody cared about- frogs for biology, dental x-ray film- there is this gray area where you can buy x-ray film from Hong Kong for nothing. Anyway, I have in my imagination, Bill, widowed, in love with a food service cashier that he will never have because he has Parkinson's (just like ole Pres Sample) and his body doesn't work any more. Anyway, he's angry. I want to find hell and heaven in this. I don't know yet if the anger is hell or heaven. I want to find heaven and hell.
This is a new novel, if you don't know me. I have whole scenes in my head already. I find I can't work any other way. I'll try to put up an outline and you can tell me if it makes any god sense. Its gonna be a Flaubert Novel about the USC farming out of the janitors and food service workers. I did my thing down there for about 5 years. Now they will have to pay. Let's see how much I can stir up.
No pictures tonight. Sorry/
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