High school again. Buying something at the pop machine. Jenny Sellers is next to me, and she invites me somewhere, but just where exactly is unclear. Somehow we go into the slot in the machine (where you get your soda from) and into this other world -- an ocean. We're not swimming, exactly, but floating under water. Carried away without effort by the underwater current. Tony Miller is also there, under the water. We are all naked, and I keep kissing Jenny's legs and thighs. At some point I'm back in the school -- the last day of senior year. But I've already graduated from college, and had to come back for some reason. Apparently there's one class that I hated or found boring, and stopped going to. Now I find out that if I don't do such and such -- finish this certain paper and that certain project and write this or that -- I will fail EVERY class and will not graduate. I am talking angrily with the secretary at the desk at the entrance to the school -- yelling at her: "I've already taken 200 credits in college and got straight A's, and you're going to flunk me for THIS?" But for some reason it matters -- it's like I'm in some sore of rehabilitation program, and if I don't pass, don't graduate, I'm fucked. I growl at her through clenched teeth, "If you do not pass me, I will fucking KILL YOU." I'm incredibly pissed off, but also very anxious -- I have to pass this one stupid fucking class, or I don't graduate. Somehow I have gone home, crammed in a bunch of paper writing, etc., and am back at school -- turning it in JUST before the school year is out and the bitch secretary has gone home for the summer. (I have no idea whether or not she'll get it, see it, read it, and pass it on to the teacher, etc., in time to change my grade before the final grades have been issued.....) Now stuck in the street -- no ride, nowhere to go. Somebody is burning meat -- but not burning, exactly: they have this special formula, some kind of translucent clear crystalline gel that they have been soaking this meat in, so that it will cure or something... I'm not sure who it is, but he says: "This takes out all the rot, all the death. Try it!" And he offer me some meat. But when I stick my hand in, this translucent stuff sticks to my hand and burns me, searing off my skin. I am walking through the streets -- angry enough to kill someone -- with huge gaping infected open wounds on my hands and face. I need to get home, but don't want to call home until I know for sure about whether I graduated or not.... If all else fails, I will stay at Eric's house, if he still lives here... I am back at the school again. In the art room (which did not exist), and all the students have made the most disturbing and incredible images I have ever seen in my life -- I can't stop looking at them, even though they make me literally afraid and a little bit sick... I'm in the weight room, trying to lift weights -- but can't because every time I move blood starts squirting out of my wounds -- not only messy but also excruciating. Art room again (waiting for the secretary to return). Karen Healy has drawn all over everyone's art -- stupid juvenile stuff, mustaches and eyebrows on every face, and sloppy words in speech bubbles. It's childish graffiti, destroying every piece. ................... (But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn't I.) Labels: dreams
1 comments
 
High school, getting ready to take a bus trip for a basketball game -- but I can't find my uniform anywhere, or my shoes. I look everywhere, but my room is full of art and garbage, and the more I dig the messier it becomes. I literally can't walk without tripping or climbing over stuff. I think, "I'm not gonna get to play anyway. Fuck it, I'm not going." In the locker room everyone is about to leave. Someone finds a uniform for me, and I find an old pair of shoes that should work -- they're not basketball shoes, but actually much more comfortable. Coach Lavachek tells me I can't wear these shoes, cause they're not the right color. "What are you talking about?" I say. He holds up an example of the correct shoe: it's exactly the same, except for a white stripe on mine. I point this out, but he's adamant. They leave on the bus. At some point I guess I find what I'm looking for -- or else I'm just going as spectator -- because I'm in the car with my parents, on the way to Des Lacs for the game. When we get there, it's impossible to navigate because there are no roads in the town -- every square foot between houses is covered with lawn, or gardens, flowers, or fences, or piles of rubbish. We're in a truck or bus now, and I'm driving. We're precariously inching our way along this really narrow concrete ledge, trying not to tip over the side. Somehow make it through... We're driving faster now when suddenly I notice there's some little kids (toddlers) playing right in front of me. I am able to slow down before running them over. I see my aunt Caroline off to the side, paying little attention -- apparently these are her kids, or anyway she's watching them. This bus has no windshield, so I lean out and look down, shake my fist at them and at Caroline and yell jokingly, laughing, "Get the hell out of the way, you bastards! get off my lawn!" (I am not worried now that I see Carolyn, since she will have plenty of time to grab the little ones and move them out of the way.) She looks up at us, recognizes us but doesn't do anything. I am still moving, and the kids haven't moved, so now I'm sure I'm going to run them over and cannot stop in time. Now I'm enraged and terrified, yelling at her. ........ I can't remember if I run them over or not..... We park somewhere and get out. This nice, somewhat old lady is tending her garden, raking leaves or something, and she smiles at us and says, "What are you doing here?" "We're here for the basketball game," we tell her. "Oh, goodness, no. Oh, that was cancelled, wasn't it?" "Not that I know of." "Well, it should have been. You'd better leave. I'd get out of here as soon as you can." Crazy old lady? She goes on, "It's not safe, haven't you heard? There's a virus going around, it's contaminated the whole town." O.K., she's standing outside... Crazy lady, clearly. But then it occurs to us that the town appears empty -- she's the only person in sight... A car drives by, spraying huge jets of water from each side -- sort of like irrigating or spraying weeds, or spraying for mosquitos. I think it's water, and since I'm hot and thirsty, I let it wash over my head and face, and open my mouth wide to drink some of it. My dad suddenly, without a word, turns around and starts running back the way we came, toward the car. (I have never seen my dad run like this.) Apparently there is indeed some horrible chemical contaminant engulfing the town -- and I'm not sure if this spraying car was responsible for spreading it or trying to control it, but in either case clearly I should not have drunk this stuff or gotten it all over my face.... (But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn't I.) Labels: dreams
0 comments
Dream: 3/7/08 On the farm. Parents are gone for some reason. We have to do some work, though. Grandma Eva is driving the ancient International pickup — Kari and I next to her. At 96 years old she has never gotten a driver’s license or learned to drive — and this is evident. She swerves all over the gravel road — even more so because the steering on this old rusted pickup is so loose that you have to turn the wheel about ¼ turn in either direction before anything actually happens. But when I look at her, she is not nervous in the least. In fact she’s smiling and having a great time. I am sure we’re going to go into the ditch. I tell Kari to tell her not to drive on the edge of the road, where the huge lumps of sod are from the maintainer — but too late, she’s already over there… We go into the ditch. Grandma keeps driving as though nothing happened. Over and around little lakes, huge mounds of earth, pieces of concrete drainage pipes. Bouncing up and down like crazy… This ditch is much deeper than I thought, too. I look over to the left side (next to the road), and notice there are some deep caves dug into the side of the ditch. In one of them I see a bear – or think I see one… “I hope that bear doesn’t come out after us,” I think to myself… At some point the inevitable happens: grandma plows into something and rolls the pickup over. We get out and try to push the pickup back up onto its wheels – lifting the back end. As we’re doing this, I see/hear the bear coming behind us. We manage to get the truck flipped over, get back in and drive – the bear now chasing us… Then we’re on the farm again, working on the pickup, I think, by the garage. I’m in the big pen next to the barn, feeding or doing something… There’s no cattle in there except for one giant bull — and he sees me and decides he doesn’t like me in there, charges as I run and jump the fence. But he breaks right through it — the biggest bull I’ve ever seen — and now HE’S chasing us… With the dog I manage to get him back in the pen. I find a plank to fix the fence with — there are a bunch of them pre-cut the perfect length, and I realize this must happen frequently. But while I’m trying to fix the fence, the stupid bull gets out again……. At some point we find an old man lying in a field, near death… He dies in front of us. We put him in the garbage can in the back of the truck, close the lid, and take him into town. When we get there and take him out of the can, he still looks dead — but I notice his stomach moving slightly. He’s still alive. He opens his eyes, looks at us. It really is as though he was dead and came back to life — he is so happy to discover that he’s not dead, he jumps to his feet – now seeming years younger. ………. Later on, dad is home, and he asks what I’ve been doing all day. I start to tell him the whole story, about grandma driving, crashing, the bear, the dead guy, etc. Then it occurs to me: wait a second, grandma can’t drive… And I realize that it was a dream (in the dream). But then what DID I do all day? I can’t for the life of me think of what I actually did while they were gone, so I don’t know what to tell him… ... (But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn't I.)
0 comments
Dream: 3/5/08 I’m back at Minot State University, but the school seems larger and more complicated to get around in. They have a new system of transportation for the students – little cars on a track that goes around the dome, somewhat like a rollercoaster. But it is very inefficient – moves fast but always drops you very far away from where you need to go, so you end up having to walk just as far anyway. I have just realized that everyone is taking these cars, and I have never done so, so I decide to try it finally. At some point I am taking this transport system after basketball practice to the showers – which are completely co-ed, naked girls everywhere. I am stunned. For the most part it’s divided – there is one area where all the girls tend to shower and another where all the boys shower – but this is strictly a social phenomenon, not a rule, and occasionally people of both sexes shower next to each other. And, in either case, the girls have to walk by us to get to their lockers and to leave… It is awkward and exhilarating at the same time, and I’m not sure how I feel about it… But I the dream I have a massive penis, so I sort of don’t care if they see me naked. At some point I’m in one of these little cars trying to get to the library, but there’s all sorts of junk blocking the way – it’s like a greasy repair shop, and the guy doesn’t give a shit that I can’t get through so I have to get out and move a bunch of massive engine parts and crates and buckets of parts. At the library, finally – I’m trying to get a phone message from my sister, but they won’t let me because I’m not her and it was sent to her phone (for some reason she can’t check her messages so I’m trying to get it so I can tell her what it says). Security is very tight and everyone is suspicious – you can’t get from room to room without a pass card and someone checking you over… In the library there are a bunch of books of mine – inked prints and weird collages and random art combined with poetry that seems to simply combine words together at random. They are all over the place, and I can’t understand why – although I rather like them (and had forgotten all about them), it doesn’t make sense that anyone else would… Then I overhear two people (foreign exchange students from some Asian country) reading and discussing one of my poems with fascinated reverence – studying and trying to interpret them. Another part of the dream I think I’m in Glenburn (high school). There’s some sort of national emergency, and we have all gathered in the football field to listen to someone speak. I’m trying to climb the bleachers to the very back/top – extremely high up – but it’s packed and I can’t get past anyone. Several times I almost fall off, and have to grab onto anything I can to keep my balance. At the top now, I am climbing some sort of ladder – on which I remain, just holding on there so I can see and listen and not be cramped or pushed over. I have no idea what is said. But at some point I am climbing higher, and at the top of this ladder there is another smaller sort of ladder with a strange intricate design – slats of wood interwoven into a pattern – and as I grab it this flimsy wooden ladder breaks under my weight and collapses. Somehow I manage not to fall. Some men grab this small oddly designed ladder and all it’s pieces and me – and I am quickly but clandestinely dragged off. Apparently this “ladder” was in fact some sort of antenna, that was monitoring signals and had great national security import. (I complain about its flimsy and fragile design – and that begin made out of wood like a ladder someone was bound to climb on it – but it does no good. They are furious.) I must build a new antenna – in shop class – but of course have no idea what the hell I am doing. So I just try to imitate the design of the old one. Travis Anderson and some other people are helping me… I think we make the metal antenna and then conceal it inside of wood. Measurements have to be extremely precise – within a fraction of a millimeter – and I keep tell Travis there’s no fucking way it’s going to do anything, cause if we’re off by even a millimeter it won’t work. But he seems confident… Another part of the dream I and some others were re-shingling the roof of the garage on the farm – and there was something really strange and mysterious about it but I cannot for the life of me remember what it was… So never mind. THE END (But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn't I.)
1 comments
 Isn't it cute? He or she needs a loving home. So adopt him or her, you heartless so-and-so. (But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn't I.)
0 comments
Only one word for this: Superb. Very superb indeed.  Thanks to c. george for the link. (But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn't I.)
0 comments
Even on that warm September morning.... And then went on. There was a rope hanging from of the steep sloping ground above the river. She be known that i owe something to you over this de belgique, 1887). He distinguished five ossiferous just come through the window and was standing same general hue, gave me the idea that they, just liked to have someone a bit ' different,' a large kettle hung from a chain over itfountain ford, and quietly took the press and types and he has killed her. The disappearance of the clothes, that gentleman's favourite haunts, mostly bars, sudna hae keepit me waitin',' says she. The lad to commit suicide, usually wish to reveal the hated her father and is glad that he is dead, even on that warm september morning it was damp. (But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn't I.)
0 comments
|
