the_cure tender_square in the dream, some kind of small gathering was happening with colleagues, but i left to retire to my room and climbed the stairs. my bedroom was a safe space. saturday morning cartoons were playing on the television. the room was comfortably disheveled. i entered the bathroom and it was messy; the detritus of cosmetics and hair products scattered around the sink. i was put off, believing the mess was someone else's, and then i found a hairbrush containing threads pulled from my scalp. i was contented. this was my space. i left the bathroom and began to dance. began to float, really. and i made my way over to the cd player to study the music that was making me move. it was the cure, something from "galore" but a title i can't recognize now, a title that doesn't exist. it wasn't a greatest hit it was a lost gem. the room changed and had enormous ceilings and a strange patchwork of carpeted walls and downspouts and concrete. it was a work-in-progress. 230406 what's it to you? who go blather from