The Very Second of Waking Up

I was up early 5am. I just woke up. I always have really vivid dreams, so much so that they sometimes wake me up, often, with a start. And unless I remember them in that very second I take to wake up, I forget them in the next second. The third second of the day and my dreams are swimming away from me like fast fish. Rub one eye, rub the other eye, they are gone.

What? It was? A fast car skidding in the gravel on a country road. No, it is gone.

There was a full moon, at 5am, it shone brightly. I called Buddy inside. He didn’t move a paw in his kennel. I wrote my journal for a while, until I felt tired again. Milo snuggled up in the blanket that was covering me on the couch. We both dropped off.

Sam got up and made porridge. The blueberries and strawberries were sour on my oats. The maple syrup countered that, almost. Fruity, syrupy, mily, oaty is what I get. I eat it horizontally.

I had a nap on the couch while Sam showered. He exhaled when he re-entered the room, seeing me still on the couch. His kissed me good bye from the couch.

“You stay there, kiss, kiss.”

Perhaps, I should have a no joint before breakfast rule. He chuckles away to himself. Sam says he hates 'that' face gazing moronically.

I chatted to Mark, yesterday. He gave away what happens to Jon Snow. The last episode I watched was Jon Snow getting stabbed. I kind of thought Jon Snow was still in the show, I couldn’t resolve it in my head, but then again, they kill everyone in that show.

I said something about the red witch, and Mark responded, with what the red witch did. I’m not going to be a spoiler too. But in that second, Mark gave it away, so easily. He said he was sorry, that he didn’t mean to. I said it was oaky, I don’t take it that seriously. At that moment, I remembered all the occasions that I had, almost bragged, that I’d never watched Game of Thrones. Boy has that changed in the last month. We’ve got season 6 to watch this weekend.

Milo and I sleep a little longer on the couch.

I put Aerosmith on. I fertilise all of my indoor plants, and my house is like a jungle, but it doesn't take long. Four twelve litres made up and we're done, until tomorrow.

I’ve been thinking about guys who could sing Son of a Preacher Man. Wouldn’t you just love to see a straight, male singer perform that song, with a gay sensibility? I reckon it would be hot.

I watched Queen play with Paul Rogers, one of two guys who have fronted Queen, one of only two guys with the chops to come close to replacing Freddie Mercury.

This is the guy who Freddy Mercury idolised as a vocalist.

Actually, I tend to like him better than Adam Lambert, Paul Rodger's voice seems to be more organic than Lambert's singing machine.

Maybe I should play a bit of Jagger, and have a morning of great rock vocalists.

I reckon the male singer to sing Son of a Preacher Man would have to be younger than the rock titans. Maybe Harry Styles, I wonder.