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Dream Page

"My professional psychiatric analysis is that Angry John is completely fucking insane." - Sigmund Freud

2012-08-02: The Party

I simultaneously was and was not the seal in the arctic. I swam deftly through the sharp, freezing water. I was being chased by a whale.

"Wait, whales are filter feeders," I said to Tracey, "Whales don't kill seals, do they?"

"I think so," she said.

I swam as fast as I could, but no matter how fast I changed directions, the whale was always there. This went on for minutes. Finally, I found a large ice floe. I struggled up onto the floe and away from the whale.

There was a polar bear on the floe. I dove back into the water and the bear dove after me.

Tracey and I sat on the ice floe.

"I wonder what it feels like to be a polar bear," I said. "I know their fur insulates them and conducts the light of the sun, but do they feel chilly, or do their adaptations make them feel like today is a nice warm day?"

The ice floe hurled into the air, held aloft by the pressure of the freezing air below it. We sailed over the arctic, over ocean, and quickly to the city.

The warm air of the city caused us to lower rapidly. The floe landed, conveniently, right next to my truck. I got into the truck and drove to the party.

The party was ostensibly social, but I was there for work purposes. Some of the attendees were working on a new contract with my company, and we had details to discuss. My company's new employee was to meet me at the entrance. He was intended to be pivotal in the negotiation of this contract, and ultimately in project management.

I found him and a couple of my other coworkers at the front door. He looked like Mickey Rourke in Iron Man 2, except more white trash, if such a thing is possible. We went in to the party. I kept to myself and let my colleagues do most of the talking. Strangely, there were a lot of kids and teenage girls at this party.

A teenage girl ran up to of of the managers from my company. She was crying.

"That creepy guy just slapped my friend on the ass. She told him to stop, and then he did it again. He won't stop harassing her."

"The manager turned to me,"Could you handle that?"

I walked in to the other room and there was Mickey Rourke, tickling a small boy in his lap.

"Hey," I said, "I need to talk to you outside."

We walked in awkward silence for what seemed like forever. It was impossible to find a private place to talk at this crowded party.

"Look," I said, "I just received a complaint..."

"Did you see the shorts that bitch was wearing?" he asked, "She was flaunting around and teasing me."

"I don't care," I said, "You are representing this company, and we are guests. You need to behave professionally."

"Fuck you, man," he said. "This is a party, and I'm gonna party."

I walked outside and called my boss.

"The new hire is slapping teenage girls on the ass, and now he is inappropriately touching a small boy. I asked him to stop, but he refuses to do so. He is embarrassing us."

"That's no big deal," my boss said. "I like him."

"Listen," I said, "You're putting me in an impossible situation. I can't work with this guy. This is embarrassing and unbearable." My face was hot. I was furious.

"You're overreacting again," he replied.

I hung up the phone and stared at the ground for a while. Suddenly the crying teenager from the party was standing next to me.

"Do you need a ride?" she asked me.

I had left my truck a few miles away. I looked at the girl. She looked about 17. Her long brown hair was still wet from the pool.

We drove in silence for a few minutes.

"Where are you headed?" I asked.

"Colorado," she replied.

"For what?"

"Pizza."

We drove in silence for a few more minutes.

"Do you want to come with me to get some pizza?"

That was a tough one.

"Right now there is nothing in the universe I want more than to get some pizza with you, but I'm married. I can't drive to Colorado with you. Plus-"

She put her index finger over my lips and drove to Colorado.

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2012-07-24: In the Adult Bookstore

I looked in the magazine and admired her tattoos. She was sexy, and I thought that this might be my kind of sexy. I turned the page, and was presented with body modifications of such horrific extremes that I was uncomfortable even holding the paper. I put the magazine back on the shelf.

I skulked away, hoping that nobody would see me seeing what I had just witnessed. I had seen a woman's breast, held open through surgical diligence, and an infant nursing inside of the cavity.

The sex shop workers eyed me suspiciously. I had to buy something. I bought a ridiculous baseball cap that I had already bought from Wal-Mart. Tracey already told me that she hates this cap. I didn't care, I just wanted to get out.

I stumbled into the dark junkyard parking lot. I got into my truck. The entire property was gated, and large sections of this acreage were muddy, rocky, and inaccessible. I was lost in the dark among these beasts.

I was afraid. The conscious part of my mind took over. I lifted my body and the truck upwards. Then there was no truck, and I was just floating. And then I allowed myself to dream again.

I sat on a ledge and looked down at the riverside. There was the familiar, lone, brick wall on the river's edge. This lone wall (that never existed in my physical life) brought me to tears. I thought clearly:

"Can this be a dream? I remember running by this wall, running up to the building in the distance. I remember a life now lost of passion and hunger."

I cried. I looked at this wall and focused. In this moment I knew who I was. I was lucid. I remembered my "real" life. But, I also recognized that these walls, wharves, waters and buildings were no mere illusions. These things were not just dreams.

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2012-07-17: Down By The Water

I trudged through the dark waters of the Causeway area again. As always, there were shipwrecks and broken bridges, decay and sunken dangers.

I tried to balance on top of the slimy wreckage, but a stick poked into my back. I had trouble balancing. The waters were ominous and rocky.

All at once I was lucid and full of elation. I docked my legs into the knee-board and grasped the two handheld parachutes. Each hand's handle was identical to the handle of a knee-boarder's handle, but on the other end was a 8 or 10 foot parachute. The one on the left hand was long, on the right hand short.

I raised my arms and caught the wind. I knew this was a dream. I opened my eyes as wide as I could and pulled myself into the trees.

I experimented with slight twists of my wrists, movements of my arms, and reveled at the pull of the wind on my limbs.

I studied the fractals of the leaves and limbs and trunks and trees.

I raised my arms up, and the winds followed. I moved up and up, and I looked down. The world below became darker and darker, and I lost my breath, and I passed out.

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2012-07-06: The Koi

I was laying on my stomach on top of a towel. I looked into the water. Koi fish were lapping greedily at the surface of the water. They were used to humans feeding them.

At first I ignored them, but their persistence roused me to action. I stood up and walked to the back door of my house, planning on getting some bread to give them.

Just at the foot of the door, I noticed that the ground was underwater. Koi and catfish circled under the doorstep. I was barefoot. I hopped over the spiny back of the catfish into my house.

A bass was thrashing just inside of my house. It flopped.

But no, it was a crab. It flipped onto its back. I could see its internal organs. The bottom of its body was formed open, as if flush against a perfectly smooth surface it was protected by this constant contact. At the time, it made sense.

I went into the kitchen for the bread. As I came back, my dog Sammy tried to eat the catfish head-first.

I tried to stop her, but she was too fast. I tried to pull the catfish out of her throat, but the spine pierced her esophagus and became hopelessly lodged.

I screamed, and my scream was that of a child, shrill and horrible.

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2012-06-07: Flashes of Nightmares

My wife and I sleep in separate beds. She snores and grinds her teeth, and I sweat and flop around.

Every once in a while I get it in my head that I'd like to try to sleep in her bed. I shove in earplugs and fall to sleep beside her. I did this a few nights ago and forgot where I was. I forgot that I was in her bed.

Suddenly, I heard someone talking. All was pitch black, and I was not in my bed. I did not know where I was. I was deaf other than the person talking. I was terrified. The talking became louder, but I could not hear anything else in the world.

I sat up. I yanked the earplugs from my ears. Tracey was babbling and muttering and shouting in her sleep. That shit is creepy.

Blackness.

In the back of my mind I heard a low-pitch siren. A deep and guttural sound. It was like the low-pitch sound cop sirens make between the whew-whew sounds. My bedroom door was kicked in. A figure rushed the bed. Was this Tracey again?

I fell onto the floor to grab my gun. Everything was black. What could I do? I couldn't fire it. I tried to turn on the light, but it was too late.

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