Justin Hall's personal site growing & breaking down since 1994

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dreamin'

super-ego bitten by a cat

sleeping in Gifu-ken, central Japan, at a home of a friend's mother. Seafood pizza with tabasco shortly before bed. Chotto kaze ga aru.
on some kind of a special tour of apple computer history with an older but middle aged founder (not famous) with some webheads, i'm towards the younger end of the group. part of the facilities tour, a large white plastic shining interior, we see a gym where we are all doing tai chiish yoga along with the sample employees, one of whom has two fingers, not a full hand. we see signs for the Apple Lisa lab - elly cheers.

this older sensitive yoga woman who is part of the tour, she offers me a cat. you must have a cat, she offers it in a playful but forceful public manner. and i say the only way i'll accept this little kitten you have for me is with some bread (meaning i'll take a cat sandwich). she is bothered and nonplussed and actually offended and alienated by my pointedly rude refusal. and i follow up to say, look i had a cat but it died a few weeks after my father died. i didn't say, a few weeks after my father killed himself. and i didn't acknowledge to myself that my family ditched the cat because it was shitting all over a house deep in mourning. but i meant to say look, a cat has let me down. i don't want to do with cats. but she is freaked out, that was socially untoward. and somehow i have uncorked this part of me, i have been uncorking it and somehow this woman inspires me to break through some kind of giant personality stopper i have and i become enraged or catatonic and some combination thereof and people are afraid and aghast and wounded and backing away and unable to escape

and the apple founder a fathery sort of fellow pulls me aside and says i have to get a hold on it

and then i find myself somehow unable to function normally i am just a spitty furious crazy ball and making a scene and unable to work and speak and flailing and making pain and discomfort for those around me. and i blame the uncorking somehow and i realize that i had something deep within me waiting to kick my ass anyhow. and when i am on the floor curled up eyes wide and staring and i am helped to stand back up and people wonder if i have finally pulled my superego back into place, curtaining off the death of my father. the thin tall yoga lady and her female partner and the apple dude pull me aside and ask if i'm okay and act genuinely caring for me and she says, well obviously what has just happened is important, you have to document it. I reach into my bag now at my side and pull out my camera to take a picture of all of us together.

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