Last night I had a dream that I lived in a town in Florida called Freesburg. Freesburg is a sort of paradise. Although it is in Florida, it is hip and progressive. The residents are overwhelmingly cultured and educated and spend most of their time outside a second-run arthouse theater. I ride my bike around this town and I feel young again, like a teenager. I'm happy and contented. I'm wearing a 1950s type of checkered shirt and just riding around on my bike.

Today is laundry day. I'm going over to my dad's place to wash out my piss-soaked drawers. To demoldify my shower towels. To get the dust, mold, and other toxins off my clothes. Each time I clean out the lint collector I think: "That is poison that will now never oppress me! It will go off into the atmosphere where it belongs - where it can do no harm, no evil, to me or anyone else! Hallelujah!"

I made a deal with myself to limit myself to one spicy meal a week. One meal of Mexican or Indian food a week. I've been overdoing it and I have been suffering from almost constant indigestion. What if I give myself ulcers and weaken my entire constitution? And what if that leads to impotence? Do you see how minor concerns snowball in the mind of a person who is still fighting OCD (although the OCDs are, admittedly, on the run - they sense their own demise.)

The eating of certain hot foods is related to OCDs. My house does not have the healthiest air. I constantly imagine myself to be constantly loaded with all sorts of chemicals, dusts, molds, and heavy metals. The curry detoxifies my body and I can sweat all of that junk out. I'm surprised a bad curry sweat is not black - all the black toxins I take in each and every day I am in that house.

I want to try the hottest curry in North America - at Brick Lane Curry House. The chef needs a gas mask to prepare it. Very few people have ever finished it. Maybe I will detoxify myself for life if I try it.

I enjoyed my blog about Ms. Stinkysocks yesterday. She just somehow always ends up wearing them!

Talked on the phone last night. Thought of South of the Border and how magical that place was to me.

SOB is the first place you see palm trees. And it's just over the border from North Carolina. That one year when we were driving up during fierce southern snowstorm and the palm trees were covered in snow.

It's usually warmer down there, sometimes a good 7odegrees fahrenheit in the middle of February. Cool to chilly at night. Palm trees. Pool. Hot tub. Honeymoon suites with the vibrating heartshaped bed and a complimentary bottle of champagne.

In other words, paradise.

Who's going to wear the stinky socks. When I was a young boy I had fantasies about one particular girl at school. I barely remember her name. In my fantasies I always fucked her in front of her family; her mom, dad and little sister watched. For some reason she (in my fantasies) always wore socks. And here was the kicker: it was never by intention. It wasn't a fetish for her or for me. She just always happened to wear socks while fucking - totally by chance. And nothing but socks. Sometimes her glasses. But always white socks. Her favorite team must have been the Chicago White Sox.

Sometimes in the giant neighborhood orgies I would organize (in my fantasies) she would march to the middle of the room (in her white socks) and take a shit on the middle of the carpet. We would all fuck around the turd. The whole time we were fucking the turd would just be conspicuously lying there, the two-ton ballerina in the room. And it was always monstrous. It was always so monstrous. It would lie there as she got fucked.

In her socks.

Chris Donahue was not allowed over our house because my father thought he was stealing quarters from the pinball machines. We had vintage pinball machines in our basement. We had to load and reload the same quarters to play them. My dad suspected Chris Donahue of emptying the coffers.

"He's poor and I was poor and I know how poor people think! That kid is stealing quarters from the pinball machine."

From then on when Chris Donahue came over my Dad used to accuse him of stealing quarters.

"Hey Chris! Your pockets are bulging! Are you stealing any more of my quarters?"

He was actually serious.

That's why I could not relate to the Michael Douglas film "Wonder Boys." In one scene Michael Douglas takes Tobey Maguire's character to his in-law's house. Tobey Maguire quickly lights up a joint and downs their Scotch. The in-laws come home and simply treat Tobey Maguire like an innocent little schoolboy. The grandmother even bakes him cookies.

If anything like this happened in my house it would be:

"Smoking marijuana in my house! Strangers smoking marijuana in my house! They could take everything from us! Everything we own! They can take your house away for having marijuana."

Another time I ground up chalk to look like cocaine, put it in a baggie and left it on a desk in front of the bedroom window.

"GET THAT CHALK OFF THE DESK! Somebody could look in the window and think we have cocaine in here! We could lose everything!"

"Three O'Clock High" is one of the greatest teen films ever made. My favorite line is when Buddy Revell says to Jerry (after Jerry paid him $350 to not beat him up): "You're the biggest pussy I've ever met in my life. You didn't even try. How does that feel?"

See, my interpretation is that Buddy was a benevolent character. He was trying to teach Jerry to face his fears and overcome his own weaknesses. I even believe he may have intentionally lost the fight. So many hidden meanings in an 80s teen film. See, it's very important just to TRY. Try. Try and do the right thing. Try no matter what anyone does to one. Try against all obstacles. This is what I'm learning. This is what I should have learned. I'm finally ready to be a good boy. I'm finally ready to be a nice kid.

I feel energy now. I'm fueled by a hearty meal, a submarine sandwich. Problem! Alert! The people at the sub shop are now familiar with me and they are all very nice to me. Uh-oh! What to do? This reminds me of the Oren's Daily Roast situation.

When I worked at Grand Central I went to Oren's Daily Roast every day for a chocolate chip muffin. Soon, all of the workers were familiar with me and joked around with me every morning. I became extremely socially phobic. It got to the point where I changed my entire route so that I would not have to see them every morning.

THEN, when I did go back they said: "Where have you been!" and it started all over again? WHY DO PEOPLE HAVE TO BE NICE??? Just kidding! I like it when people are nice, but I become so afraid of not being nice back - or of somehow offending them - that I simply avoid them. It's not fair to them or myself. Why can't I make casual friends and develop a cozy microcosm? I will dammit!

This time I will not back down. I will continue to go to the Jersey Mike's Sub Shop in Wall Township. I will make casual friends with the people at the counter. I will order the same thing every day until they make fun of me for it! Until they deliver my order with all the self-assurance of a bartender pouring an alcoholic's favorite brand of whiskey.

Just be a nice kid - like Jerry - and everything will be okay.

Last night I had a dream that I had travelled back in time to 1986 and that I made a fortune by being the first to manage Guns N' Roses. I used my money to buy my two best friends (who also apparently travelled back in time with me) Lamborghinis.

I then sold out and destroyed Rock N' Roll by managing Nirvana and promoting grunge to the masses. Even though I knew that grunge would murder Rock N' Roll I still did it for the money.

I woke up thoroughly ashamed.

I am Lord Chambers, the King, Lord, God of Chaos! Ha!

This was my horoscope for today:

http://www.freewillastrology.com/horoscopes/scorpio.html

So I decided to do a blog.

I'm interested in doing research on the following supplements:

Theanine

and

GABA.

Both are said to improve both concentration and relaxation at the same time. Whatever keeps me productive.

I'm somewhat addicted to "Brain Toniq" soft drinks, which contain a variety of supplements. Yes, cool, calm and focused.

Now I just need to figure out this whole sleeping/waking thing. At night I have trouble sleeping because I am afraid of encountering entities. I also still, on occasion, have panic attacks and nightmares. I thought I was having a panic attack the other night. I was about to call Eric or 911. That's how I know Eric is my brother. He was the first person I planned to call.

I've been feeling incredibly strong. The bitterness is gone. I'm truly entering new territory again. I've been writing of my own alienation for so long that it will be difficult to find and exploit new themes.

I've been feeling very, very strong. Strong enough even to love, trust, and forgive. This isn't New Age drivel. I think of someone who has really hurt me (and still hurts me), like my sister. Then I think of how she - at this moment - is being devoured by her own demons. No sane person could have come out of that house. I had to go through the INSANITY before I could become sane. But now I'm flirting with the bitter again.

Perhaps I can write about those moments when I feel particularly good and particularly strong. When everything is perfect and all my thoughts and feelings are flowing through me.

Isn't love all that matters?