free rad!cals: saturdays

Saturday, December 06, 2008

saturdays

saturdays in LA have been devoted to sleeping in, waking up on my own at 6:20 despite turning the alarm off, and going back to bed to have feverish and jarring dreams. this week's sampling:

my friend's boyfriend, who i've just met and who my friend is very pleased with, turns out to be stalking me. i find his fan page on the internet, a photoessay in which he posted pictures of me at a party in the park, my mom, aunt, and grandma (all the ladies in my family) lined up in front of a stage where a band is playing, and we are dancing. the boyfriend analyzes my expressions, my hair, my muscle tone and writes this justification for his fascination:

"she has the body of a man but exudes the allure of feminine sexuality, which proves she is the birthmother"

in this context, "birthmother" means that i am the mother of the earth.

in a conjoining dream, i pick the lids off of two garbage cans and strap them to my arms and flap my way to the sky. i am flying between steeples and hovering by the windows of tall buildings, landing on rafters of coffee shops and spying on bad guys plotting to hurt people. i'm still in LA, but it's a New England version of LA, and there are tall old trees which i like to perch in, since i can fly and all.

5 comments:

Chelsea said...: girl, you have the trippiest dreams! is it something you eat before bed?; 5:52 PM
stephanie lee said...: i've been told eating salami before bed is the way to wild dreams. but i haven't been near a salami in a long time, so that can't be it.

*shrug*; 6:03 PM
smert' bazara said...: I recently rediscovered a dream I documented this summer:

Reading a book on translation studies at a deli booth. Christine comes in and tells me something about it (she's read it). Now some old woman is with me. Christine tells her something and suddenly I am on top of the old woman, talking very close to her face.

Somehow the discussion shifts to language, and I am contesting her assertion that learning bits of language wasn't good enough. I say that hopefully two years of each of my four languages would be enough. No, they will be more than enough. By this point we are in a classroom with [a certain professor] at the front, who says that he can tell how well I know these languages, based on how I learn the names of the Gods. Now Derrick and I are on a twin bed, [said professor] on another next to it. We are talking about something and Derrick mentions the name of some teacher and what street she lives on. As if [said professor] would recognize the street names of Middletown. He joins our bed and starts talking excitedly. Then he is showing us a hulking and peculiar machine that is used for some sort of testing in grad school. The basis of its grading is the measurement of some negative value/quality.

This is in my basement, and out of nowhere Steve shows up to ask [said professor] a question. Calculatingly, cautiously he glances at me, and starts to introduce himself to [said professor] in a "Hi, my name is…" sort of way. I laugh. "You think I don't know? Are you stupid?" I quickly make some trifling apology for this accusation. Somehow my basement is also Steve's art studio and he is collecting some materials. He starts to pick up pieces my mother is working on and carry them off. I fly into a rage "Don't you fucking dare…!"

A hallway or lobby somewhere. Steve and I do battle. He knocks me down, but I kick him in the balls and once he's on the ground break his head in with my fist. At the bottom of the steps to the deck, a little terrier. Next to it Darwin lying on the ground. I shake Darwin's body, lifeless. Mom running out toward the alley screaming for help.; 4:32 PM
stephanie lee said...: i'm thinking about publishing a book of dreams. my dreams, yr dreams, our dreams.

of both the sleeping and aspiring variety.

i think it would make for a really good read.; 4:39 PM
smert' bazara said...: sounds delightful; 2:26 AM