Of a strange experience I had shortly after moving into this apartment (123, that is)...

i awoke at about 3 am, having to urinate, which i generally do at that time of night, and heard a group of gospel singers, sitting outside my building, under our window. Will was asleep- i looked at him to see if it would awaken him, for it was quite loud, but he slept on. I peered out over the ledge, cautiously through the curtains. I could see one man, a good looking black man of the street, conducting with his arms and his elbows out to a group of (presumably) other homeless men and women. i was certain that they were so, from what i could see of the one man and could judge from the extraneous sounds of the others.

so i was having out (in my mind, for i didn't attempt to stop him or otherwise communicate) with the image of this guy conducting this hidden choir, a no doubt rag-tag mildly grimy bunch of people going at it with a sense of brimstone, with fire, with a wrath of the spirit abounding within.

what the hell?

i still had to urinate and urinate i did, but after leaving the bedroom and pushing on to the bathroom, for i am not a vulgar man.

i came back and they were still singing, but truth be known the sound wasn't quite as loud as i've hyperbolized, and i was able to fall asleep within 10 or 15 minutes of returning to bed. as i departed again to sleep i thought to Myself that i'd think this a dream tomorrow, but i knew that i'd not have that confusion because i'd gone to the bathroom during it; it was a physical experience as well. i could remember that.

and therein lies the paradox -> the question i remain with today. did this really happen? Will heard not a thing and i, for some reason, never woke him. i start the dream journal with this stupid question: is it worth continuing after this meagre beginning?

i answer yes,

because i can

and hope to remove myself from you...

where are the boundaries of permanence in this reality?