This photo was posted on Weird Hollywood this morning. It reminded me of a story I shared on solo once, not sure where, but I kinda want to tell it again. (There's this weird "place of death" theme floating around lately but this story is kind of cool.)
When I first "woke up" or whatever, when I first started seeing signs real heavy, like they where wanting me to follow them and go places, I had a cool experience with my dog Al. The sign following was more like learning to talk to ghosts, I'd follow their train of thought. It took forever to learn. So during the day when Evan was just fired and a total monster, I'd escape from the house by walking Al all over Paso Robles. He was pretty elderly at the time too, 14 or 15, but he loved walks. So we lived on 3rd street. I worked at the Inn on 12th street. We'd walk to the park on 12th, sometimes as far as A&W root beer for an ice cream. Anyway we had a regular routine and Al didn't like change too much. Walking with him was almost like "ghost class" because he'd stop and stare at something and it taught me to look at the object he was staring at and toss it around in my brain in TLOTB to link whatever he was staring at to whatever I was learning in my books at the time or relating it to other stuff going on, it was like Bird grammar class and my teacher was a dog. So one day he was acting completely out of character and was pulling at the leash like CRAZY, he NEVER did that, the gentlest walker ever. So I went with it and just sort of followed him. We walked up Vine street as usually towards twelfth, but instead of going right and heading to the park, he wanted to go left. He pulled me up a number of other streets until we were in a neighborhood on a hill on the west side of town overlooking downtown Paso. He basically dragged me to a backyard/cul-de-sac. And he stopped. He just stood there. Unsure of how it worked, I thought I was supposed to into the house, that someone was waiting for me there. I don't think I knocked on the door, but it crossed my mind too. Al just stood there, this was where he wanted to go. Then after a few minutes, back down the hill to the park like nothing ever happened. I learned later that the very place we were standing used to be the site of the Paso Robles General Hospital, where James Dean died.
It was familiar to Al. He was just showing me I wasn't alone.