dream 5—6—02
right at the corner. on the corner. in the intersection. kitty corner. driving a 67 blue bug. passenger door's slightly open broken whatever this girl/boy female feminine but with male vibes too bends down to look like a hooker checking for a cop or something gets in and it's fear/tension a little of rejection maybe or wrongness somehow but there's a mutuality of desire or something but it's about money too and we drive off this is in SLO and we head south toward edna and she puts her head in my lap mouth downward and then there's this store like the candy store but different the hill is longer bigger but there's a store we're in there then I leave and as I leave the payphone outside by the door starts ringing and even in the dream there's that recognition the remembering how often how many times and there's this new feeling of so what so I go on up the hill more payphones but they don't ring and then it's night a bigger place same street now in a city and there's traffic thick but it's dark can't see the drivers and then thru the traffic come these ships these massive tall like four story greyhound buses and they're roaring silently past the traffic really fast and it's like watching an invasion or something only they're greyhound buses bigger than three semi-trucks and there's two of them and something about me and the little pickup should be on them and there's these middle-aged 'Watchers' women who just monitor things and have no judgement no investment no bets on the outcome and I'm ok it's not about I missed it but there's a redirection of the journey more like that then we're going south in the car and then we're in somebody else's car and it's this guy 'Nail' and he's this writer he lives like south of Santa Barbara only it's all different and it's in the country only there's neighbors and we get there and he has all these antiques only it's somebody else's house now where he just stays and then he shows me a bunch of expository prose he's famous for, getting a lot of government heat and all but lots of blows against the empire in it and it's all tightly written and packaged and the little pickup is in another house close by or upstairs in a different apartment and I'm alone Nail isn't there anymore and I get up from this antique chair and walk toward I don't know but I step on or previously stepped on somehow this plastic beige-colored violin on the rug it's broken only the top half is there and there's a dim regret or remorse but it wasn't me exactly that did it it was already broken and then I see Nail in another room driven to the ground crouched and lit up by thousands of watts blinding light all through the room and all white like a laboratory thing and he's insisting in this broken voice 'but I'm clean. I'm clean now!' and I think how to react but I'm just staring feeling the otherness of watching someone else break and be broken then I can't remember the transition and it's morning a sweet country morning Nail is making breakfast and coffee with that almost singing bustling that some people have as they cook breakfast and the little pickup comes through the screendoor all ready to go in the bright soft morning of a new possible day


{none of that is fiction. it's all I can recall this afternoon, from a dream last night}
posted by Juke at 3:46 PM [edit]