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Showing posts with label dream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dream. Show all posts

Thursday, August 04, 2016

travel dream

impossible spaces/portals like subway platforms, train stations, airports, a pointed tower and a sometimes bar in the middle of the ocean

family is flying away to Japan with all the little dogs In a bag. irie hops out at the gate and poops on the floor. jangly and colorful.
is this where I run into emy? she will become my sidekick through the travels
I think we're even playing Pokemon?!

I know we end up at this impossible bar in the middle of the ocean that only sometimes exists. we drink to get drunk and somehow make it home (a water train??) where we proceed to make out in the bushes. a lot. super hot. this part is a real blur but not a short one.
I think even there's more... I remember a diner where emy is blurring into Bekka.

later I realize I left something at the bar and I'm trying to get back. I'm trying to find Thursday but his phone goes straight to voicemail. I'm standing on a tiny open platform, atop a tall tower, in the middle of the ocean. I have a card in my hand and I open it. it's blue with bubbly wavy letters. at the bottom you can scroll through different music options (classical, soothing) which are paired with different flowers. I play with this for a moment before I realize this is some sort of death letter. an official notice from his employers (military??) that thursday is drowned and gone. I refuse to believe it. surely he just dropped his phone in the ocean and that's why I can't find him. why no one can find him. I'm not giving up.

I get a phone call and now in my head it sounds like mike's voice but I think it was supposed to be emy. or maybe mike is relaying the message for her?? I'm asking how I can see her, contact info or something. I hear him saying "too indie" and I start to spell it back, oh this is her email address? you're saying i-n-d-I-E? "no you are too Indy, I-n-d-y." I'm crushed.

back to business or this may be another dream after the car woke me up. thursday? someone drinks my sun tea prematurely. I was making plain and some other weird infusion thing that was gonna mix in. I'm frustrated.

Thursday, July 28, 2016

thursday dream

wandering around some huge downtown. offered a free meal, it's this huge media blitz, ads everywhere and staff with matching t shirts and smiles pushing paper to everyone on the street. but why not? we have to go through a series of "interactive challenges" to get to the food. for one, we enter a room where the door is blocked by an undulating human chain of smiley staffers. in order to pass you have to wriggle under arms or squeeze through an ever changing gap between two sections of bodies. it's not comfortable. it's meant to be "engaging" but it's just embarrassing.
there are not very many people here and the ones participating are all young & affluent. I try to imagine an actually needy/hungry person here and it seems impossible.

did we ever get the free food? I hope so, after all that.

I remember being in a long line and we were just a couple people behind your ex (who was actually Regina). you did not want her to spot us. her portion of the line got on an elevator and you made sure we weren't on it. what's so scary, I wonder?

we're in some sort of museum when i find my vibrator in my pocket and you find it quite amusing. of course you turn it on and embarrass me with the noise. it gets stuck and I have to unscrew the cap to make it stop.

we run into Marti from work, and her daughter, who want to sit down and chat. we are on a roof looking over onto a falls. there are stone circle table and stools at the corners of the roof, hanging out over the edge. I step carefully out from step to step, terrified of the drop. but Marti's young daughter barrels out and I realize there is a platform below the stone steps as well. of course there is, I think, they wouldn't want people sitting anywhere dangerous. we talk and when I turn around again I realize we aren't on a roof at all, but solid ground. perception

we are tagging along with some crowd, some friends maybe you ran into. I don't mind until I hear you making plans without me. it's not that I don't want to go swimming at twin oaks this afternoon, but that you commit without checking in. maybe this is just my pride, a clutching at still having sovereignty over myself. whatever it is I still want to go swimming.


lots more but I forget. 

Thursday, March 31, 2016

falling down dream

lots of falling or almost falling
catching myself and climbing, pulling myself up

Brandon with tattoos
except its a whole little cage of Simpsons figurines, with little teal stars dangling between some
don't they fall? no

I've taken a whole fridge. something important in it

Luke and curtis picking pig to Slaughter

apa senior cat arellia
I somehow diagnose her cant tell if anyone is listening to me
doxy bubble between her eyes
we nearly lose her somehow
is that how I start tumbling down the mountain?
at first on the road, sliding like a too fast car
but shooting off like a black star towards the white sky
and down crashing through the trees fill I catch a branch
watch a raccoon pursue a precarious route up the cliff and follow suit

Land day I'm in giant auditorium
I've already pissed off one girl
these two looked almost ljke twins but they were lovers, hair dyed black with red streaks
they're mc for this part of the show but they just start making out and dry jumping
or is this the show?
I try to find a seat, it's unusually quiet as people focus on the show
I'm trying so hard to be silent I lose my balance on the narrow ledge between seats and slip off, but manage to grab hold of the edge before falling 100 feet
I am thinking there's no way I can do this. didn't anyone see me? will they help? but I don't dare shout
somehow I get my leg hooked over and scramble back up
there's chris, high as hell, "oh hey what's up alanna"
there are plenty of empty seats around him
he's sitting with another man with a grease vulture look

she's mad at me but I don't know why
she's making fun of my fall and how I squealed so loud, but a little too late, how obviously fake. I say "I didn't!" then "did I?" and honestly I don't know
I thought I helped her earlier, maybe her pride is sore
I realize too late I should have teased her right back and she would've left me alone

Sybil lamb is mc or she's something, auctioning off someone to fuck
bids start at $5 "bc she's horny!"
I missed part of this somehow bc I'm trying to ask syb clarifying questions while counting my pile of money on the arm rest.
"so the person with the most $ wins? or is it just who she likes the best?"
I'm confused bc it seems ljke everyone just put down $20
and this is a fundraiser after all
Sybil thinks I'm silly but takes my money anyway -- not all $142 but some.

the girl in glitter green with wide eyes and dark bangs and high pony
talking about the grease culture
he's obsessed with her ass
it was novel, fun at first but she's bored now
not him he's obsessed
(an image of him fuxking her against a baby crib)

Friday, December 18, 2015

a dream of a cult of vampires, or something almost like it.
the kind of dream where me and it are taking turns telling the story, drifting in and out of sleep.
the whole crew silently filed into town overnight and somehow i saw. they seem to not have particular powers, no pointy teeth, only marginally violent, definitely terrifying, dangerous. i'm drawn right to them, or maybe i can't leave. they take over an abandoned building and its all ours. 
i should've written it down right away. it's all gone now.

another weird fucking day. back in memphis. tonight dad wants to see star wars.

my former friend has agreed to meet with me when i'm back in austin, with the condition that we don't talk about what went down at the coop.

my long-distance girlfriend is so overwhelmingly pissed about that that she referred to me as her "friend" on twitter but has been dating so many other people she didn't think it was worth it to tell me.

my long lost ex best friend/lover has finally written to me something that means something. but I'm too dead to know how to respond.

i'm lost in a sea of online window shopping for xmas gifts, one of my least favorite activities in the whole world, but something i get sucked into every year. when will i be adult enough to say "i'm not fucking doing it" and push a little further out of the consumer cycle?

i'm lost in general and i don't know where i'm going, except that it's in baltimore. 

Thursday, October 29, 2015

tower dream

dreamed this dumb boy was my partner but when we walked through the gate at the backyard party, he still followed around the other dumb boy like a helpless puppy. "I thought you were *my* boyfriend ??" 
then I climbed the tallest tower, metal and open with a slightly creaky sway. at the top, some of my cozy familiar things I think. i lay on my stomach facing out and got off in the night wind. i have to climb back down but I'm distracted by a pair of mostly white cats with weird black markings, brother/sister? and a couple young guys creeping around the bushes and pouting up and laughing. clearly they've seen me but I'm not particularly phased. i have to get up and start moving again but I'm so exhausted, I feel tired to the point of craziness, like I will certainly fall and maybe something worse if I keep going. 
what happens? I just wake up from my nap and realize I'm still exhausted. 
don't worry, honey, skip the meeting. skip the party too, if that's what you need. skip life and stay in bed; just sleep. 

Monday, August 31, 2015

two nights dreamed of tall water.
the first, riding atop the tallest waves in train cars, saving the people and carrying the cats in boxes. gracie lou who close to my chest, while i call orders over the tumult.
and the second, on the tallest balcony, the tidal wave encroaching, worrying over the people and herding the cats into tubes. willikers the prominent tuxedo in a tunnel of black cats.
and that night, in the dark of the conscious world, the saloon deck of the ferry to manhattan, leaning over the railing, willing myself not to drop in.
and then the train with river wild, and finally seeing rex across broadway, in front of roma's pizza. we dance the distance until the lights change. our reunion on the streets and at the overcrowded dyke bar, cash only. but friday night and too many straight boys and overpriced weak whisky pushes us to the corner store, the tiny park, the street. rex doubts his inner queens compass and modern convenience leads us astray. we never do find the water, let alone the pier. what we find is a strangely deserted bright street with a rock. without protest, the rock lets us talk and sit and drink and piss and nearly fall asleep right on it, until rex gets us going, back to the subway and the walk through the garden apartments to the cluttered cozy jackson heights townhouse where we can whisky steelie sleep through the morning. except that rex has a bus to boston at dawn, so i oversleep alone, try to slip out quietly, but am thwarted by his mom, nourished with apple fritter, sweet talk, and decaf. the journey back to staten island takes two meandering hours, and the ferry is soothing this time.
ganas is a strange green maze with its own sidewalks, raised up from the street; is this the real city? there is a palpable tension between old and new, the steadfast 60s communards and the invigorated younger set, fresh for revolution. "it's time to turn, to revolve, it's always time," we say, as we huddle on our porches, sneak a smoke, scurry when we hear them coming.
and look, we do share the bounty! from the house pantry, jaclyn makes tunafish pizza with bacon grease white sauce, plus tomato cheese just for me. the days drift in the green heat; is this city real?
wednesday rolls around and i still don't make it up in time for the 730am planning meeting, especially not from the extra house at the bottom of the hill. i still can't handle time, i'm one step slow all day, and even run late to rex's show at the new york city bureau of human services queer division, and the building was even more swanky than the name. everyone is beautiful gayz and i'm so proud to see rex his cap his bow tie his perfect poems and py arrives right at the end, during the glitter rap dance party, the queer cafe unsure how not to shake. pyrite is a vision in the village, vegetarian and mostly sober, until we spot the stella. "it's the gay beer," we're told. we fold into a flock, a glistening smoking parade brigade, back to the dyke bar, cash only, whisky bourbon on special.
i'm sorry if i rambled your ear off, spun off too far, gave you too many smokes, spent all yr money on drinks, spit your powdered supplement on the ground, cried on your shoulder, hugged you too many times, kicked you for old times' sake. but we did laugh, and we remembered the ghosts, and we almost walked that secret path.
but it twisted and you left us underground in the sick yellow light, where we continued to follow that dolorous brick road through the tunnel, to the dive with the whisky and the filthy foggy back room. it's no wonder i can't remember what was said. but we make it our home, for now, and i could live here forever until rex persuades me to leave, he in his infinite wisdom, with his mind on new york time, and again quit my pointless flirting and i'll hold my brother's hand on the train to queens, and again i'll share your bed until morning, but this time i have a bus, and two ferrys, and ten trains to catch to make richmond tonight, where i'll hitch a ride to twin oaks with comrades, albeit strangers, friends who have never met.

Friday, May 01, 2015

dream

light and dark
we lived in the trees
they wanted to destiny Christmas
hooting people
we did rituals to protect ourselves
costumes and performance
mama there telling me all the truth
mama leading us esp the new generation
a woman has been coming to our side seeking shelter and solace
reformed
we perform rituals to cleanse her

hash
shiner
(blood wine for dark purpose )

she's telling tales
we're stuck as the rifleman makes rounds
ruthless. shooting even our youngest without power
we are all women and old men
she's here in the very center with the most powerful ones
I left them downstairs to protect abatha (the most powerful of all of us, but stuck in a coma and helpless)
when I crawled away trip grabbed my hand and wouldn't let me. I worried they'd shoot me right then, that they'd see me.
but I made it up to the core
my mama in a trance
my costume comedic for joy and mirth (all straps and buckles, my
hairy legs and open skirt)
my clown calling

she tells us she misses that power
details the dark ritual
three times at least she fucked her dark lord, got pregnant and transplanted the fetus to one of our light wombs
abatha, so powerful. she claims that's why
and me
so that's why I was three weeks late
dry birth
covered in scales
made wicked from the start

but where is my power ?
I'm just a jester

so glad mama isn't here to hear
but she most know somehow....

and disgusted to know my true father
and that he wanted to fuck me



and laylee helped us protect the chrosmas things
sort and hide and disguise
morgan had made a beautiful story with wonderful illustrations

I would die to save it

Monday, February 16, 2015

dream space

I must've known it was a dreAm because I started writing everything down in the middle, needing to remember.  
four clans. a prophecy of course. 
they had been tracking us for years, they had seen it all and put the pieces together. 

I don't really know why I'm here or what's going on. we're gathering in a huuuuuuge auditorium, hundreds of people. I can't settle on a place to sit bc I'm all alone. I stumble into an area where no one is sitting and realize it must be reserved for the performance. woops. scuttle into a corner and settle in.  and I'm not wrong, there are male acrobats in shiny sequins who spring out somewhere along the way. so extreme and over tr top wow. later I'm fiddling with something (a mouse maybe?) and they see me and call me out. how??
why?? they escort me out or I'm trying to walk somewhere else and get intercepted. they put me on a spaceship with dozens of others. (mostly women?) I'm starting to see differences between the people, between the nations. two are more powerful, bigger, more numbers. one of these is flashy sequin decadence pop and the other is more nationalist harder military but still decadent in a different way. 
how to explain the others???? 
in the bathroom one woman showed me a picture of a harpy, "this is what you will be. this is what I am."
there is a sense of death surrounding them. they would rather kill each other than have the prophecy come to pass. 
and I do feel that I have something of a choice. people are pulling me like something can change. it's not set in stone. 
then she rescues me. I don't remember the details but she finds me in the crowd and smuggles me out to her own ship. at first I'm confused. later I'm in love. these are my people. and we are fugitives. 

later we get separated and I'm supposed to follow her by piloting my own ship which of course I've never done before. it's okay at first but I just
can't get the hang of it fast enough and I lose them. I think I crash and they find me. 
they're still trying to figure out if I am the one they think. they ask all kinds of strange and invasive questions. "did you have the clear coccidia?" and my family. supposedly my seemingly normal mother was a harpy too and could transform at will. And yet they're all being so nice, no one wants to upset me, no one hurts me. they must think I'm powerful. 

I have a mouse friend from somewhere. actually it might be a person in mouse form that I'm watching over. that other hRpy's daughter? she transformed her own child into a mouse to make a point. they would rather die than see the wrong future. 
I'm carrying her everywhere but she gets away from me. I crawl under a huge gate to get outside and find her but it's too late. there's a creature in the bushes crouching down.. I think maybe she's still out there but the creature smacks his jaw open closed one time and I see the tail inside. 


I know she'll find me. I'm writing everything down in orange crayon. I know she'll come back for me. 

Wednesday, August 06, 2014

nap dream

brother cats (r9 litter??) ok my dream

there are kids playing a game that seems like they're taking very seriously. everyone acts upset and weird when they "come back" and the chip they win is the wrong color.  they are actually disaplearing into an alternate world disguise as a tv show when they play ??? they're teying to hint at something but i can't digure it out.

board game and tv. they are playing at the board, they disappear, I'm watching a tv show that is really the game -- it's set up and then their solutions. i dont realize that it's not a game at all, but an urgent quest which is why they take it so seriously.

there's a group or three or four creeper dudes that keep showing up whenever the game is going on, or right near the end. they are talking about a house vote thats gonna happen or some sort of big decision. a type of "learning" or discipline or religion??? that they want to establish in the coop. i make a skeptical or negative comment and they react strangely-- calm and somewhat logical, asking so many questions and calling me a close minded business very nicely. their coldness creeps me out every time.

i am figuring out that something strange is going on but i don't know what or how to fix it. i need to talk to Ian or somebody but where ?? i ask her to come outside and she completely pounces. we start hardcore making out on the ground, shes got my shirt pushed up and were tearing at each other. I've forgotten what I came here to tell her, it's all encompassing and wonderful. suddenly there's laylee telling us that the whole coop can see us and we need to het out of there. i feel like i see the creeper dudes pale faces judging me through the window. when we get inside somehow its too late, I've missed the window to talk and now everyone's here again.

going to the theatre to pick up the kids from their show/game and its raining, they're not there, the parking lot is empty except for one car with the doors open. (or the shell if a car, a double open hooded two seat.) i walk up and find a terrified kitten sitting there on the seat, hissing and spittig and so afraid. i realize its a cat i know, Reginald, and i call him by name, wrap him up and take him home with me. bit he's not acting like himself, and where are his brothers and sisters i took to the show? i being him home and he immediately hides under a bench where another brother, tiny rajan, instantly hisses, and i think they don't recognize each other. slowly somehow the clues (there must've been more clues) come together and i realize this is not the cat i think it is, but some other brother, new, and everyone else is stuck somewhere. he starts to yowl as then actually begins speaking, mentions that rajan had a sore on his  tongue -- that's why he hissed! to show the ulcer that is not truly an ulcer but a scary magic bad thing. The lead creep is showing interest in me and this cat sufdenly and he doesn't know that he shouldn't speak. i grab him up and start walking briskly out the door, talking with him since he doesn't know to stop and this creep wants him for who knows what. i dont know where to go thats safe. i walk into my parents room but they're clumping around leaving on a trip. I'm looking for Ian and calling her nme but i can't find her. panic panic i Abe no idea how I will save the cats and not let the coop kingdom fall.


then the damn dinner bell rings. even after waking up i still have a sense of urgency, of going back to the world, of figuring it out.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Austra concerts -- at least two or three. We meet them outside the stage door in the first. In the second I am confident -- volunteer or improvize? Dancing witching every audience member -- sprinkling magic on their heads.. are they sitting down? It's weirdly calm. Somehow Brian is the most important -- the top of his head is shaved, only in the front, and green dye on the sides. Heavy eyeliner and super magic. We talk and something important happens. Third concert, somehow I miss the end. Do I fall asleep? Am I called outside by something else? All this part of the dream looks dark but feels light, good. Sparkly.

another dream working in the cattery, but there are many people who work with me. someone is missing one day and i wonder what is going on. he is the son of important people. maybe not king and queen but the equivalent? he gets blamed for a wet towel that i know is my fault but i don't say anything and then feel horribly guilty when he is gone the next day. then he comes back, quiet and reserved, having seen more harm than good.
Wendy is the queen.
someone dies or disappears in their dorm/apartment. young, tragic, horrible, a warning. we all have to be more careful.
a movie -- do i actually watch it or just know about it? bizarrre sexual undertones (or overtones) and i'm drawn to it and freaked out at the same time. another stage door area -- a man is standing at the top of the steps in an open doorway and the (hopeful?) cast is crowding around for the meeting. the part of Frog Man is obvious. what am i doing there, though?
mainly i have been an observer up to now, but strange things start happening that indicate i'm being pulled towards center. a man driving by craning to see me, with a picture of my granny taped to his sun visor.
someone gives me a locket? somehow i have a secret locket. it is not easy to open but when i do, i see two faces that are really important. i don't remember why. is one me?
someone teaches me how to get free quarters from the vending machine by putting in bottle caps and then pushing the change return button. i get $8 in quarters and i'm walking away when they all swoop in and whisk me away to a secret meeting in their lair.
wendy is the leader. the others are some people i recognize -- the boy from work at the cattery, and his brother, and some other people who i thought were strangers that have apparently been following me. we are laying out the plan. wendy introduces me as the newest member of the team. later in private, she indicates that the whole team is actually my protection -- they just don't know it yet. i am the target but i don't know why. i show her the locket but the pictures are gone. it doesn't matter -- she knew the faces anyway. she has set the wheels in motion and we're on the way. somehow i feel safer now than i did before i knew i was in danger.
there is some question with the boy from the cattery. he evades directly answering his parents and shuffles around. his brother and i are sitting separately, secret smiles and twinkling eyes. i tell him what i know: he was gone from the cattery right before that girl was killed. of course he's not hte killer but we know he knew her. the brother jumps in to add this information to the slough of accusations, without revealing that i provided this information, and i am grateful. i feel guilty again, but i also feel that somehow i'm helping him -- i want him to be safe.
i'm seeing weird sexual tensions of all kinds. trying to be a matchmaker?

I wake up from this dream a number of times, but I'm able to ease back in. I sleep until 1 in the afternoon because I don't want it to end. In writing it looks like a stressful dream, but the having it was really beautiful and calm. Everything felt right somehow -- everything was going in the right direction, I was on the right path. The last time I go back to sleep I think I'm still half awake and maybe making up some of the story, rather than genuinely dreaming it all. But that felt great too and the worst part was waking up and not being able to remember it all. This dream would be a really wonderful story if it weren't now full of holes. I wish I could imagine these sorts of things while I'm awake. I want to write it all.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

a vivid morning dream, when you almost feel awake and present in the floating. 

I'm being punished or maybe otherwise institutionalized. I'm locked into one of the cat cages from work and I can't sleep all night on the cold metal floor. 

i don't have words to explain this: a woman wants to ride around on a giant steamroller. it's luxurious and she's 30 feet off the ground. not driving, just sitting in the open air and waving and being on top. 

I'm escorted back into the cattery and someone is being pinned to the floor, getting a giant needle stabbed into their ass. the guard tells me I'm next. up to this point, I've been uncooperative but here I see my chance. I tell him I'll take the drugs without fighting, so they give me painkillers and the pills dissolve in my mouth before I can swallow them down with water. 

Since I've "decided to be good" they're gonna move me to a different cell. I'm marched through a sinister and deeply rich maze of strange objects like a carnival. huge images hang from the ceiling: a massive burger and fries, a Maurice Sendak style king's face. The colors are pale and dark and I say nothing. 

As we weave between the disheveled buildings and the shanty shacks, I am able to get away from my escort for brief moments. I'm opening every door I can find without making a scene. Filthy hairy prisoners quietly creep free and disappear into the darkness. 

I'm moved into a bigger enclosure. Is this jail for cats and humans? From my cell I can see a kitten (again in a group room from the cattery) and a woman asking questions about him. She's afraid he will be "uncontrollable" since he isn't neutered yet. (are we cats or people?)

Morgan comes to visit. She has lost a tooth and in its place, a whole new set of tiny teeth is growing in. It looks like a kitten's teeth inside her normal mouth. I tell her something isn't right. 

I'm plotting my escape. 


Monday, July 29, 2013

sun forms shadows inside me

dreamt of walking in the woods, in groups and alone, hiding and searching, walking the stream, not just wading across. wrapped three black musket balls in leaves and hid them in the river cane. peering through the trees at the far-off crowd.

the alarm and the snooze button brought me hazy texts from charlotte and made me think of amy's song "walking in the woods" and i inserted them into the dream as well, though i forget just how, now hours later. it all feels like some omen against austin, though that could just be my anxiety talking. in the dream, i responded to charlotte and it somehow felt positive, but in life, i'm too sad to write back, real dreams of north carolina and poetry and goats all fading to nothing.

i've got to get this shit on track. austin has to be better than this paralysis.

Monday, July 22, 2013

last night again you were in my dream

but thank god i don't remember it. somehow you floated into my mind while i was brushing my teeth, and i remembered you had been there. even asleep, i ignored you. two rows over in the theatre, and not a word. but you just followed us around and didn't say anything, so it was easy. and saying it like that sounds like the living you, but the dream you pulled and twisted, and glowed and hummed. brushing my teeth, i laughed at how the reality is flat and cold and easy to ignore. (and yet this dream.)

"the days go by like butterflies...." the days move abruptly from coffee to beer. my head aches with a constant tender worry, my skin feels thin and useless over imagined/probable ills. i can't shake this damned cough, after being sick ever since the vagina overkill/amy oelsner show (almost two weeks ago now) and then chainsmoking at bobby's going away party (though he isn't yet gone away). it's a wonder i haven't infected anyone. mostly i just want to know what the hell is going on, and why i can't choose, and how i ever fell this stagnant. who is driving this contraption, who calls the shots, and what do they want?

maybe it's not all bad. there's drinking an appropriate amount of beer, the bartender saying that you have the best laugh -- the bar folk don't bite every night. tipping off your stool, leaning and laughing, canoodling all night, a dozen poses, and tiptoeing home at dawn before the long drive to see your grandparents in georgia. the audiobook narrator's voice makes your head reel, but it's almost puss in boots, and you will live through this. it has often been worse.

your goals fluctuate wildly, from grand and wild to status quo to suicide, depending on the time of day and how much art you're absorbing. versus how much media. some nights it's okay to watch bad movies with your parents, play unblock me, and believe that having a 9 to 5 job would be the greatest thing that could happen. (from there, imagine the range of other possibilities -- it feels like sacrilege to write them down.) mostly, obsession is the thing, whether fleeting, ongoing, or recurring. you will consider every relationship, exhaust yourself over a moment or a text message, wonder and analyze and reconsider, all while knowing what a goddamn waste of time. but when you're not alone, how the time trips on and the thing takes over and you don't know who you are anymore- how much you change depending on whose company. how you seem so unsure of what you really want. how well you can pretend. how you never can stick to the plan. or the designated curfew, the number of drinks, the amount of money. you are sickened by your privilege and indecision, this rotting, waste. you don't know how to change.

like clockwork, your grandma wakes up between 2 and 3 every night to let the cat out (or in, apparently). "you're still awake? are you working on your.....?" she doesn't know what she is trying to ask, but no, of course you're not. you really don't deserve any of this; you're too lucky to have fucked up this bad. you should have done so much more.


listening to: joanna newsom - go long

Friday, July 12, 2013

it is dark here

i dreamed i manned a pirate ship, carrying my sister, our three dogs, and my cat. i don't remember much now that the nap is done, but it was an adventure and a struggle, and had very little to do with any ocean or other body of water. i remember sailing into a tree. and i remember that by the end, my main objective was to make it home safely with all the animals alive. (morgan could mostly fend for herself, and help out with the rest.)

i thought sylvie could make it, that it was the dogs i had to worry about. at one point, i set her down in a bathroom stall, needing the use of my hands for some other purpose. (were we sailing through the toilet?) she instantly tried to run away, jumping into a small square indention in the floor. at first glance, i thought she was safe there, but then i saw that the space lead to a greater tunnel, a sewer, and was actually filling with water (more water) and i had to scramble to reach in and barely grabbed her by the scruff of her neck before she was pulled away by the current. and why didn't she seem happy to be back?

at some point in the dream, i lost her. or at some point, i remembered she had died, and she wasn't my charge anymore. but at some point, maybe in between, i woke up thinking, "oh god i haven't fed her in days, how could i forget?" before i remembered.

why does the empty bed creak? when have i ever been so alone?

tonight i talked to laylee for the first time in months -- it's always awful how that happens, and now the time has really gotten away from me. she wants the whole story, and i still cry telling it, although it's maybe easier to hide now that it's been a week. the call is too brief and i mentally firm up my plans to move to austin. i just wish i'd hear back from the folks at duke one way or the other so i'd know where to start.


listening to: a cackle or a coughing fit - tunnel

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

first lucid dream?

dachshund mix colony - the middle of the woods, i'm in the middle of the circle, there are little tunnels around me where i can see them running circles around me. a few come out and actually let me pet them, but one growls. slowly i become his friend.

the other two show up and try to load off some free range dogs. i'm trying to explain that we cant just leave them there, they're not the right kind, these are people dogs not wild dogs. they don't listen, just leave. they say "why dont you take them, then" and soon i realize the dogs will follow us no matter what. we make our way through the forest, back across the bridge, up to a wooden house on stilts with a gazillion stairs. some of the dogs have followed but a storm is coming, a huge flood. i'm standing on the porch calling them, panicking, not knowing which are in and which are out. a few run in and i think we've got them.... but at the last possible second another batch runs in -- cosmo and junebug and more! the number of dogs is overwhelming, far beyond what the woman had dropped off. maybe some are from the colony but they can't all be. magic dogs?

now too there are more people in the house, our fortress, headquarters. magic people. a woman with colorful hair, same age as me. there is an electric feeling that something is about to happen.

a stadium. our troops? of course they're scattered and scraggled and they're mostly just people. the back seats are full of children. they start a step routine and soon the entire stadium has joined in. we are really a team now. i look for bobby, expecting him to be sulking and sitting it out, but he's in there trying to keep up with the step moves. he can't do it, which surprises me since he's such a great drummer. he catches my eye and smiles.  he's here with us too, part of the team.

why am i thinking about a wizard for this part. or wizards. or having to get something from one.

the battle. of course we're totally outnumbered, they're militant and strong and evil. they have huge monsters on their side, freaking space ships and shit. the leader is a severe man with grey hair, but he doesn't look very old. (think gene elliot but skinnier and creepier.) we're getting slaughtered, they're pushing us across the bridge to the edge of a platform... are we on some sort of huge deck? over what? me and the pink haired lady are pushed to the edge and we turn to each other. there must be something we can do. she thinks maybe she can zap some things with her telepathic powers... she's trying and i suggest that we focus our energy together. i pick a point, zero in on it, concentrate my mind toward it, and see it explode with a blue zap. i am ecstatic, we can do this together! she says she wasn't really even doing anything but i dismiss her and continue the strategy. i'm zapping spaceships and heads of monsters (and i really feel like i am physically doing this, pushing my brain into a focused point like i would do to stop a headache. am i doing this in the dream and in life, really?) 

i'm running all around zapping when i am attacked by a huge man, all bronze and muscle, terrifying. what do we say? am i trying to logic him out of killing me? do i try to zap his head? i think i'm somehow putting him in a headlock when i say, "well this is my dream after all" and he laughs uproariously before i kill him....?

i am biting into flesh, tearing into it with my fingers, and i can feel it all. it's all too easy. i remember thinking that this is impossibly easy, shouldnt i have to try harder? i'm barely putting forth any effort, shouldnt this be harder? i think i am asking the dream? my subconscious? maybe i have jinxed myself.

in the end we win the day and go back to home base to celebrate and rest. this is a good feeling. too good because the other leaders and i stay up all night (apparently) and to our dismay, we're being attacked again. they're rolling into town now, their forces replinished, even doubled. we get into some sort of sky car and zoom down to meet their leader in his procession towards our camp. i dont know if i've climbed into his car or we're just flying alongside, but i'm trying to talk him out of this, trying to tell him that it isn't worth the wasted life and the destruction. he won't have it, this is a sport or some stupid act of honor. (WHAT ARE WE EVEN FIGHTING OVER, i have no idea. for some reason that doesn't come up in the dream, so maybe i knew then and have since forgotten. or my own mission was so strong in the heat of the dream-moment that i didn't care either way.)



something here spurs a flashback... something about remembering when they met when he was 9. my dream cuts to a flashback of a couple kids, "we had just gotten back to town after the summer and we were ecstatic to see each other again" style voiceover. i see these two kids stepping off side by side planes and running toward each other. i'm thinking, "these kids aren't 9!" and the whole thing stops and rewrites. ALL IN A FLASH. now for some reason it's harry potter, i feel like i may even see a page in my mind, and hear "chapter 10, diagon alley." or something. this is so over the top, i'm thinking. then the voiceover/narration gets really weird, a little poetic and nonsensical. (something about a puddle?) i'm so aware of it, "what is going on?" i think i even wonder if i am writing it and thats why it doesnt make sense. then back to "all these had been carefully placed to obscure the entrance to diagon alley and make it look like every other alley in london." this is too much, and i wake up. as usual i've already forgotten a lot, but i didn't forget the feeling of choosing. is this really my first lucid dream???? i think maybe i actually have done it before but i just didn't so blatantly recognize it. the fact that i called out the dream during the dream.... or perhaps i wasn't asleep at all during this nap, and actually i was just making it all up??? a daydream??? then why couldnt i stop the general from attacking us again? i wasnt actually thinking this up, it was just happening. 

Thursday, March 14, 2013

dream story

i checked myself into the asylum. i don't remember why. 

you'd be surprised how many names you'd recognize from the roster there. kids from high school, a couple famous artists: one refused to talk about his old work, and the other lived in it. 

the women's ward was a long corridor of open doors, almost felt like a public restroom in that way. our rooms were small little cubbies but i didn't mind that. i didn't bring anything much with me and i don't take up too much space. we all got dressed with the doors open, leaning out into the corridor to gossip and glance. you start to feel almost normal in a place like that. 

my room was at the end of the hall and the girl sam across from me was the sweetest one there. she took me under her wing a bit, looked out for me, and made sure the men steered clear. 

 the days do go by. mom calls, worried sick, but i tell her this is really for the best. i have time to focus now, maybe i'll even write something.

sometimes i forget why we're all here. the danger under the surface. sometimes it's just like being off at school.

so and so displays his drawings, flashes that grin, show off. some of the girls are giddy from swooning, but these aren't my friends so i don't bother with it. i couldn't care less. instead i try to get the other to talk, the poet that was. he's dizzy with anxiety, won't remember, won't forget. i'm sorry to see him in such a state but i secretly promise not to give up on him. i'm sure he has some scribbles up his sleeve.

an outing. a drag race. three drowned, dead in a car in the river. we're all in various states of shock, depending on our remaining faculties. those of us with an appropriate power of empathy (neither hauled off wailing, nor nothing in the eyes) set out to organize a little something to commemorate these tragic young people, "not so unlike ourselves, mister director." we get an evening out.

somehow it's all too much, i have to slip away. find myself at a gazebo by the shore, find myself wanting, needing to flow underneath like the tide, to writhe and curl into the sand and let it out. now i feel it all: belly big with child, how he still hit, how he pricked, the getting it out, the whole thing happening to my body again forever here in this sand. i gave her to the sea. 

they find me with my teeth loose, my clothes gone but for this wrecked slip. the pearl green streaked with blood. sam knows everything, i don't know how long she's been standing there. they carry me off to the theatre, everyone is there, but why are we here when they can't help. i can't go in here like this, clutching bits of my teeth to my chest through the rip in my dress. what will they do with me now that they know?

the hospital upstairs tells us that the dentist is out. i'm still bleeding, clutching, i can't wait. put my teeth back in and make me well, and i'll be on my way. the handsome young man in the butcher's apron claims to know a thing or two about teeth. then he sees who i am with, "say, everything i know, i learned from you! why can't you do it?" she scowls and shows again my mouth, full of metal and blood and broken bones, all exposed. the wires scare him off.

a woman in the basement knows a thing or two. she has her own shop, it's astounding to a group of well-dressed male customers who try to tell her she's selling too cheap. she puts on a wonderful show with a spinning cat that multiplies and tiny pigs that really fly. she just grins at the men, takes their money, and shoos them on their way. she's smiling till they turn their backs. she's tough and terrifying but i like her. sam holds my hand.

she is going to drill out my teeth but somehow i know we'll be alright. 

Friday, November 16, 2012

by the lake with the days of rum

if, in dreams, water represents the unconscious, as well as change and renewal, what about a swimming pool? what about the biggest ever interconnected network of swimming pools, filled with giant octopi and forgotten 70s music stars, and i'm swimming through the murky 70s water the entire time, the whole dream world is this pool? WHAT THEN???

i almost always dream of water, but this is unprecedented.


listening to: marissa nadler - old love haunts me in the morning (on phoning it in)

Friday, April 06, 2012

​dreamt of animals, taking care of charlie, who it turned out had been alive all along. a soft sweet creature, peach and feather fur.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

​dreamt you sent me two songs. the first was about how sad and depressed you were, and the second said something lik​​e "if you really cared, you'd be here" and it made me feel awful.
and then i dreamed about being at the pharmacy with a girl i used to know when i was small.

Sunday, September 05, 2010

can you see the means without the end in the random frantic action

violent dream. beat up (or maybe just verbally abused?) brandon's girlfriend, then went to someone's house where i got shot, then went off and proceeded to slice up my own tongue.
last night i just sat at home after my horrible day and moped by myself. i ended up hanging out with my parents, who were watching wonderfalls and drinking dad's beer of the month club beer. more correctly, my dad drank the whole huge 9.3% bottle by himself, except for the half glass i snatched for myself. i got jealous and started drinking white russians. we proceeded to get more ridiculous until we were all talking to the tv and dad could hardly follow the show. brock appeared suddenly while we were standing in the backyard pointing mom's ipad at the invisible stars. it almost feels like true fall...
blah blah blah. in the end, i was up till 6am yet again. and cutting my own hair, which looks awful. i need something

listening to: amanda palmer - astronaut