night 1 without

Magical things happened last night.

I looked down into the water from the library bouchany above. A single silk button up shirt swirled just below the surface, the caretaker said it had been swirling in circles there for years, weaving and unweaving itself. 

Silkworm swirl.

Along the surface of the water zillions of cucumber type creatures that zipped along in perfect lines like an LA freeway. 

They never stop zipping, it was like the water itself, always glistening, always moving. 

I turned away from the solid rail walked just a few paces to climb up a shallow hill. 

It was encrusted with gold picture frames, dolls, antiques, science experiments, exotic plants, inventions, trinkets. I leaned against the hill and it nestled me in, like sitting on a french couch, it held me as I watched the students below. 

No teachers were present. They sat in groups and had very nice clothes and good manners. 

The only real reason I snuck into this school was because I fallowed X here. She was down below spread out atop the moss, being lonely.

 I wanted to join her, but she was very busy in her loneliness.

 I decided to flirt with some of the rich girls. Every last one of them had on a highly pigmented jacket in wild patterns and shapes, they were the most beautiful jackets I had ever seen. They were made out of an unidentifiable material, they radiated. All the girls sat in a circle on the ground with a few boys inter-dispersed wearing ties and nerdy faces. 

I squeezed between two girls, sorta pushing them apart, both high school aged, no one knew I was years beyond collage, I looked just like them- 

only homeless.

Trying to coax one into taking me to the movies, I don't know what happened, but there was a vase and I suppose I threw it, I don't know how or why. But I was responsible for the boy who went running to the restroom with a large cut-hole taken out of his cheek.

Instantly I felt awful... perhaps it was an accident???

He eventually returned and the open hole was now just a pink swollen closed cut. I offered to get bandages or anything.  He said "nah", he was fine, maybe just a cup of coffee. 

I said he may want to avoid acidic things w/ an open wound, I couldn't remember if it was for open mouth issues or bladder infections to avoid acidic drinks and food, but regardless I wouldn't get him the coffee.

I snuck into the movies there on campus, I stashed my white trash bag of stuff in a hallway by the bathroom. When I peed the door would not lock and X came it. We talked about sneaking out of the building. 

We jumped out the bathroom window and ended up loosing our train tickets and belongings but strangely on the road below we had our pet dog back. It was more like a stuffed animal dog. I was not afraid of it. It was sort of like a half human baby, half stuffed animal dog. 

I never did end up making out with any of the private school girls in the jackets. It was a nice feeling of escapism being there. Being an adult and not having a home or job, being held in this fancy high school, pretending to belong, feeling free and young in that mahogany lined space.

again

dear dream people,
Please send me something else.
I'll do anything for a time out. Send me a sanctuary.
Why must she come every night? It makes the missing her worse, it's a cigarette burn on the skin,
every night re-opened.
every night just as painful.

dreamself and hermusic

Before I went to bed last night, my roommates phone, keys and puffer had all been lost or stolen throughout her evening, poof gone, not drunk at a club poof but, monday night sober poof. She was being hilarious about the whole fiasco and I was cracking up just before I got ready to hit the reading light and jump into my fantastically cozy princess bed.

I don't often have laughing juice running through my body before being horizontal for the next 5 to 8 hours, so I was imagining this was a good sign, an endorphin spell perhaps to ward off the nightmares that have a strangle hold on my subconscious as of late.

Every morning I have been waking into the human world, the sturdy bed frame, the shut blinds, the pile of clothes with stale glitter and hairspray clung to their insides, solid wood floor, crisp white ceiling with a cake trim crown molding, real world.... waking out of the epic, tragic nightmares. Tears all over my face, heart racing and covers woven around in a macrame sculpture cocooning my shaking body.

I asked the world out loud if I could not dream of her.

The past 2 nights it was unbearable, I awoke feeling ripped to shreds, a paper-shredded doll of a person.

The laughing juice did not help. I woke up this morning after seasons of dream time tragedies in one human night equivalent.

 I was in a class room and were presenting our work in the front of the class. The teacher said only come up if you had it completed.  I kept looking at the back of the CD and trying to figure out which track number matched up with which title, they where holographic and the alignment of the two changed are you moved it. there where colorful drawings done in maker and the font was all hand done too, animals and zig zag shapes, really beautiful.
 As I watched the holograms and tried to read it I saw her name
written: "all lyrics by XX".
 Just seeing her name spelled out had a tremendous affect on me.
XX
 no way to describe the feeling... like a digging in the chest- a low thuddy beating, a sledge hammer against  enclosed parking lot pavement, echo-ey, cold, a terrible vibration.
Had I ever left one with this feeling before??? I am so so so sorry...It is dry heaving, it is your face on the porcelain seat, tears stacked up like a shelf inside the eyes.

The cellophane wrapper was tricky with my dream hands, I struggled for a long time to open it, then the plastic case and popping out the actual CD, everything was laborious as my heart thumped, my hands shook and the tears became apart of my presentation outfit.

I picked a title that sounded familiar and sad, as I read it I tried to imagine what the lyrics might say, what it could sound like, what I would do for my presentation. I stood up and said I had never even heard my song, that I was going to improv and walked over to the boom box. 

I had trouble finding the correct buttons to make it work, my dream hands touched all the knobs, it played like a tape. I cranked the volume up to max and began my dance.

Rather than staying in the front of the classroom I instantly flung myself between a row of desks where everyone sat stunned. I had on a wet leotard and wet hair, bare feet. I was crying and crawled across the desks, fell off backwards and slithered between the desk and chair legs on the dirty linoleum floor. The music was erratic and I spazzed out, my hair all wild like vines wrapped around my face, no one could see the tears, it was all just one big cathartic mess, the teacher watched silently from the front of the room.

 I was all alone in it.

None of the students had faces, just a little gasp mouthes here and there.

Later in the dream I showed up at a club house in San Francisco-Olympia and had my bike. All the girl club members were super rude and said I couldn't lock my bike here or there. I was extremely nice to them as I kept moving along to different spaces in the wear house and ended up stashing my bike in this little hallway. The dudes were super rude to me as well, I was like a second class citizen because I was not a member. The rest of the dream goes down hill in a way that I'd rather not even think about it. I'd like to just delete it from my memory. The parts above are sadly the light hearted moments.

A shape: Long Bright Halls

Touring: 
Sitting on the bus,  looking out the windows with the landscape going by. I like the feeling of knowing nobody lives in that space, when it's just earth and animals and road. I feel free watching it blur into a color, yellow-tan, red-green, grey-white, in this color verb I am located nowhere.
How humans constantly fly through that space, inside their heated buses and trucks... but outside it is cold and human feet don't touch that part. Not too often anyway.
Untouched and open outside the tinted window, my breath heats it up, add tears and you've got a mini steam room between bus world and outside world.

 As a survivalist I think about being dropped off in those spaces, how long it might take to walk to the nearest gas station, what it might be like to sleep in that barn, climb into the storm drain, if hunting and gathering skills would kick in. I'm sure I would eat meat if I was a train hopping vagabond. But I would need a lighter, and I'd have to get a pocket knife too, and boots, and I'd want to cut my hair and pass as a boy... I'd need a couple essentials if I was going to commit to a outside lifestyle for sure.

I enjoy sleeping in hotels because I think the break of white walls is healthy to cleanse my visual palate' of the super intense colors slathering my home. White, grey, light brown and other boring colors are sort of refreshing and calming. It's always a calming feeling when you are in a space like a hotel where there is little history invested. It feels lighter.
It's like the vending machine of housing. The opposite of a kitchen at home food- with a real cook and real mouthes to feed. That is always a whole kitchen of a story- every appliance and dish hold time and memories and energy. But the hotel room is just the vending machine version of food. Its simply meeting the needs in this way, you cant get too invested in the Natures Way green packaged granola bar, you just press the buttons and open the food item. It's not super delicious. You feel less hungry.
 In the room you can sleep. No associations. No specific smells taking you somewhere in your mind. It is nice to have nothing there to feel.

Though, the hallways of hotels remind me of all the collage dorms I've lived in. It's that narrow passageway filled with light, it will always be exciting and risky to me. Walking though hallways in hotels is like walking through an airport. Everyones instantly sexier because there not from your city, and your not from theirs, and life is big and too wild to understand all the difference happening all the time.
Hallways have that affect, but more so, strangers behind each door, like an advent calender. Some sure to be friendly, some to be strangers forever, some to catch your eye and make your body become alert- make your eyes focus intently, like how a cat watches a bird, super still, serious; dead serious crushes walking in and out of doors. The smell of carpet. Your hand running along the clean walls. The sound of the lights on all the time, at all hours bright and wide awake hallways.

Sometimes I wanna go back to school just to feel that, perhaps this is why I am always traveling- wanting to feel the well lit hallways, hear the buzzing lights, wait like a cat for a dead serious crush to step out of one of those little doors, a little chocolate person.