Made it through to another morning. Cloudy, overcast, a bird squawking outside. I crushed my first spotted lanternfly a  couple of days ago. I thought I got it on video but I did not. I first spotted one on Amsterdam Avenue, unaware that authorities and Parks administrators had said these things should be killed on sight. And there I was marveling at its unusual and even beautiful features. It did not look quite like a cockroach but the spots on its wings were decorative, I thought.

It did a little dance, which I did capture. After I stopped recording it leapt into the air, clinging to a man’s pants leg. I considered tapping his shoulder to tell him a big bug was affixed to his person but I was uncertain where the big bug went. I honestly think it may have crawled up the dude’s pants and into his left pocket, which would make a shocking freakout-worthy moment next time he reached for his car keys or wallet.

I needed more certainty about this. To approach a stranger and tell him a bigass bug just crawled up your pants and into your pocket would look awfully strange if no bug was found in his pocket. And really, it’s no big deal. I did not recognize that bug for what it was at the time but I was informed later that it is an invasive beast that destroys trees and plants. The lanternfly is not poisonous to humans, save for the unknown possibility that ingesting them (yummy!) might be dangerous. They don’t bite humans or pets. So that big bug, if it really did crawl into someone’s pocket, would be scary as hell to discover but harmless.

I dreamed last night of finally having sex with a woman I’ve known for something like 25 years. She is married now, has been for a long time, but claims it’s an open marriage. The dream felt real enough that I woke from it feeling that it being a reality was inevitable, unstoppable.

I used to be relationship-minded, and in the right circumstance I probably will be again. But these past few years had me fucking around in ways unrecognizable from my past. Maybe I’m over it already. I feel safer now with no woman in my life, but I still find myself dreaming about being in love, feeling love.

Some days I wake up in caveman mode, thinking that I should, for the life experience, hire a hooker for an hour of sex. But then I start poking around the hooker websites and also online discussion about other peoples’ experiences with this stuff. I quickly go from thinking it would be fun and illuminating to whispering ick, and forgetting about it.

Last night’s dream was filled with genuine mutual love, and some hard-pounding fucking. We were laughing about it. The dreamy unrealistic aspect of it was that her body became smaller and smaller as our encounter continued. She never got to be Barbie-doll small but she went from what I’d guess was 5’4″ to 4’6″.

I have no idea what a dream about fucking a shrinking woman means. I have never slept with a shrinking woman before, neither in reality nor in a dream.

I might go somewhere again today. Yesterday I stayed close to home, trying out my new winter and rain boots and finding them satisfactory, if a little loose. I like my shoes like I like my women: tight. Sorry, that joke was inevitable.

But where to go? I have reason to go up to Co-Op City in the Bronx. It’s a long-ass trek, though, so I should be sure of this intent.

I’m trying another mapping app. Google’s timeline tracking has proven inferior to a previous app I used. It misses big things, and makes it look as if I entered places I did not or could not have penetrated. All those tracking apps do this to some extent but the Timeline thing seems to be particularly bad about that.

I read something about stalking apps. I decided I wanted one of those to track my every move and broadcast it to the internet in real time. Hey, why not? Nobody’s going to stalk after someone like me.