The world is crazier than most people know. But I know. I was a clinical social worker for forty years. I am a witness. I retired from social work to write about the sad, the mad, and the savage; with whom I have spent most of my life. I have decided to translate these stories into fiction, because, as a co-worker once said, "You couldn't make this sh*t up. No one would believe you."

Friday, November 25, 2011

The Dream of Life 2.0

I dreamed:

That I had a decent motorhome that had an engine powered by shit. Shit is the most plentiful substance on earth, and if I ever run low, I’ll just drive to Washington.

That I had solar and wind panels on the roof that powered an extraordinary battery pack under the bus. And that the toilet was an incinerating marvel that turned shit into ash, and was perfect so long as you remembered to stand up before flushing.

That the crappy little car I towed behind the thing always started when I wanted it to. 

That I had earth boxes filled with vegetables and berries in compartments under the bus that I put out everyplace I stopped and that fed me well. That I was able to trade manure removal with farmers for fresh eggs.

That I was pretty good
at stealing meat from supermarket chains(never small stores), along with health and beauty supplies.

That I had enough Medicare to fill my prescriptions. And could grow enough herbs in my window boxes to cover the rest.

That I could find lovely places to park, off the grid, off the view of law enforcement for at least five days at a time.

That I met like-minded old crazies on the road and traded friendship, wild stories, a bit of booze and supplies as needed.

And that I was free, and that I was free.


  1. The only time, as far as I can tell, that one is truly free, is when one is dead. And then there is no cognition of freedom. We do the best we can while here and take comfort in what happiness we find against all the trials we bear. I wonder at the fear of death sometimes, and remember Hamlet's quote about the undiscovered country.

  2. I LOVE like-minded old crazies! And as for a poop-powered vehicle...I'm in.

    A lovely dream...

    Hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving!



  3. @ Lian: what a dark mood you must have been in, not like you, usually. We may not be free, but we can FEEL free...
    @ Anna: back atcha, girl! Hope you had a great Thanksgiving as well....I'm reading your book, OMG. Plan to write a review on Amazon and here!

  4. Haha. Great idea;) There is too much poop in this world! Seriously, if we could use it for energy instead of fossil fuels, "global warming" would be solved!

    Freedom is whatever the mind makes it out to be, and that's the beauty of it.

  5. @ Flameheart: Beautiful words about freedom. And as for poop, there IS a way, maybe it's just not glamorous enough. But free and plentiful....I like it, I like it!

  6. Lovely, free-wheeling dream, Janey. Very Walt Whitman, very 1960s. I guess we all have our own little shit-powered motorhomes right here in our bodies, and all the freedom we want so long as we act free.

  7. @ NP: Marty, you are a hoot. You're right of course, as usual, but you're funny as hell to boot!

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  9. The dream is overtly humorous but the concept of freedom is overwhelming