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Solstice
Last night, exceptionally strange dreams: psychotic, then sociopathic, figures – strange flashes of ruthless danger, violence. Not frightening exactly, not a feeling of nightmares, but certainly alarming – perhaps more alarming on waking: to write about them brings one to a stop, to a point of shock. Of course, in Jungian terms, some kind of…
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Types
Today was Steve's wake: of the 'eldest set' (and no, we don't have a term for ourselves – we are simply the members of the local HIV patient group who have lived the longest – generally from fifteen to twenty-odd years since diagnosis), he is actually the first, or perhaps the second, to die in…
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Maintenance
I tend to be disturbed by the times when practically everything there is to do in a given day, in this city, in the world seems to be a kind of maintenance – keeping things going, repetition – except for the things that are timewasters. Maintenance: I do tend to keep the apartment neat, I…
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Spinning
After Mom's death, recovering from what is apparently irritable bowel syndrome (sigh) and someone breaking into my office… At the analyst's. My dreams have no particular focus; I can discern an echo, like an invisible superstructure, of response to Mom's death around the edges, but otherwise there is not much to work with. He finally…
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Airports (II)
I remember that, in the first few years I went up in airplanes, and lasting well into my early twenties, I was amazed by the tops of the clouds visible through the airplane windows – and responded to them with fascination and flights of imagination, and couldn't quite understand why other people didn't watch them…
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Mom died on Sunday, very early in the morning. There have been papers to sign; my sister and brother have of course handled lion's shares of the complex work involved – contacting relatives, banks and newspapers, filling out forms, cleaning out her room, etc. I'm apologetic to say that I mostly feel a certain dim…
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Paul Attinello 