Mad rehearsals of things that never happened, dream of changing my mind at a tattoo parlor at the last minute but offending the culture and antagonism when I bravely decide no I'm not going to do that to the skin on my shoulder, no refund then returning to a dingy apartment where I live with my brother, the toilet not working well, and last night, my birthday, a quiet party for me, north and looking back at our valley, at an outdoor place, sort of like a resort meets a nature zoo meets an elementary school with my brother, and then sweetly my mom comes, having travelled a very long way while it still is my birthday, still light out before midnight.  Dreams, funny things.

I came home last night and watched public television, segments of a piece on the Amish, one scene of fireflies at night twinkling in a field, barns in the distance.  Beautiful countryside.  Young folk leaving the community, shunned, but able to keep their lives together with work and housing and cars.  I work in the city, and remember wanting to cry whenever we'd leave dad's small driveway up back home and make the long drive back to the city and the fallen life I lead here alone.