Wednesday, July 8, 2009
black leather journal v.2
i dreamt i was sleeping in my old bunk bed again. but i wasn't home. i was in some other country, a newcomer about to start a new job. melanie was sleeping above me. the bed was surrounded by a thick jungle of leaves and bamboo. natives lived in it. you could hear them throw bird calls to one another. i was afraid of them, of the strange noises. mel poked her head down. i said, "they are so loud." she said, "that's because you are. don't be afraid of them. they watch over us at night, like guardians." i grew calmer.
the next moment i left my bed. standing by the water. you could see the feet of the natives in the jungle. then faces. they smiled at me. their chief came. he drew a line in the dift with his toe, connecting me to him. we played a game with his tribe. he set up small carved figures and a woman rolled a ball to knock them over. inside one object was a map.
next we were on top of a tall building. the tribe was in street clothes. i realized then they were not a jungle tribe, they were only pretending. the chief turned out to be a failed rock n' roll musician with one song to his name. he taught me about history. we looked at the horizon. i looked at the skyline of building tops emitting endless clouds of smog and began to cry because i could not see the sunset.
clouds came. lightning, a hot pink, struck a building. i thought, "how pretty." then i remembered where we were. as soon as i stood up, lightning struck the building and electicity shot through me. i made everyone run underground, to the subway. the chief fell into a coma. i do not know if he wakes up.
(2:30am : 4/20/07 : Greece)