Dream Diary #2

Of course, once I start this exercise, my internet vanished for two weeks and I switched day jobs so that I'm working literally every morning. As I type this, I'm eyeing the clock and I have to leave in 6 minutes. Let's see if I can remember everything. Aaaaand: GO!

In this dream, I was at a screening for the film A Tale of Delight. Instead of regular theater seating, our hosts decided to set up lounge-style couches, so that all of us could sleep comfortably during the film. The irony here, of course, is that sleeping through A Tale of Delight would probably give us nightmares.

There were four screens set up, instead of one, and they were about a quarter of the size of normal theater screens. Three were stationed up front, and one was in back, and I remember seeing the beams of light cross each other. How this failed to mess with the look of the film, I have no idea. Also, the projectors were skinny, probably no larger than camcorders. In the middle of the screening, there were some technical difficulties, and most of the audience was unhappy to be disturbed from their naps.

Afterwards, when the sun was coming up, Edd Blott's wife invited me and another gal to go the laundromat with her. I went reluctantly, because I had realized that I had forgotten to do my statistics homework again, and I was scared I wouldn't catch up by the end of the semester. Nevermind that I graduated from college a couple years ago, or that I never had problems with staying on top of my homework in that class. I have dreams about this quite often.

Dream Diary #1

Apologies for not updating much. I've been focusing my efforts on my two unpublished novels. Speaking of which, one has a plot revolving around dreams. In an effort to write believable dreams, I am going to start recording the ones I remember here. Although my dreams often contain real life people, I'll refrain from mentioning their names, in case they do something rather embarrassing. Here begins my dream diary.

I woke up to a flurry of noise, of doors being slammed and boxes bumping into walls. Ah, yes. Today was moving day. Heading into the hall, I saw not just one, but two roommates moving in. One was a colleague, one with an ever present smile and springy golden curls. Together we watched the third roommate, who we had not expected til April, with straight dark hair, moving her things quietly into the bedroom between mine and my colleague's. 


"She's our third roommate?" Her smile turned into a puzzled look. "I thought you picked that red-headed girl."

"I did, too." The dark haired girl was one I hadn't seen since college. Or was it that day as extras on television? It was hard to say. But apparently we were going to live together now.

We watched as the dark haired girl opened a closet next to my room, one I'd forgotten I had, and started nonperishable food items in it. Shrugging it off, I passed by my room, to a room I also forgot I had, complete with windows on either side and a desk I thought I had given away. It was covered in papers and dust.

"As you can see, I hardly use this room." There might have been a flat screen television one side of the room.

Then we went out to the deck. Rather than be a patio deck on the side of my bedroom, this was a huge area, on the third floor, surrounded by rooftops, and metal railing.

"Look at how much skyline there is!" I pulled out my camera. Though the sun had been up previously, it was dark now.

"It's perfect for taking sunrise pictures." She watched me as I started snapping away.

Two hot, white-gold orbs rose from nebulas of clouds in the west. Maybe they were moons? As if remembering that I was taking pictures of a sunrise, I turned to the east, and snapped even more photos. My camera was slow, and for some reason kept switching to video mode against my will. The clouds in front of me were larger than thunderclouds, and spiked in all directions as if made from a galactic gas. Behind them, the sun lit there edges in red and gold as it rose into the sky.

I was walking, and walking fast, and at one point I was riding in the back of a friends truck, snapping as many pictures as I could. Then I was surrounded by warehouses, enraptured by the sky. Again, the sun rose, only to disappear. It was late, and I was standing at a busstop where the bus wouldn't arrive for half an hour. A taxi-cab arrived to pick up customers, and there wasn't enough room for me. One college-age girl sat in the shot gun seat, and three football-player sized guys piled in the backseat. The cab driver, a middle-aged woman, fiddled with her meter.

Next I was sitting in a small, local diner, and the day finally showed it's full brightness outside. I was reading through a menu, wondering if I should order chicken strips or something that would take less time and money. My family had at least three tables put together, and I wondered if my dad or my sister would try to pay for me. The menu had fried pickles as one of their appetizers.

The Cliff (for a friend)

Of all the times we danced near the edge,
I never thought we'd end up here.

Funny how we're holding hands,
but we're not thinking about how this feels,
only how we'll keep from falling.

I can tell you looked down,
but please don't let go.

Hold on to my hand,
and I'll pray I'm strong enough
to hold you up.

Love Errant

This could be our fairy tale--
with you my prince, and I your princess,
But our kingdoms sit
on either side
of these mountains,
with only these tunnels,
and the film running between them and
music: the rails, connecting the two of us,
and God, the train that carries us forward.

If only I could see through
these dim windows,
to see what you think of me from
that platform,
if you think of me at all.

Caught

You said my name first,
but like so many times before,
my name was someone else's name,
my skin, someone else's skin,
my eyes, certainly my eyes,
belonged to someone else.

You said my name again,
and here I noticed my failure
to move your name from my brain,
yes, my brain to my mouth, and then my lips.

Perhaps you said my name a third time,
and I could only call you--well--you,
but it wasn't you then either.

Even now I can't help but imagine
it was you,
and it was me,
and it was my hand on your shoulder,
and it was we who walked out of the room
together.

The Undelivered Love Poem

You probably never knew that I fell for you,
or that you cost me that A in geometry,
or that a touch from your unconscious hand
could melt all the snow outside.

Before my path went near,
and yours
far.
Before I knew your secret.

This is the love serenade,
caught in the throat.
This is the bouquet
left standing behind the counter.
This is the last petal:
the one that says:
He loves me not.

An Appointment with a New Patient

I'm usually the last person people want to see. Granted, I'm not pleasant to look at. My pale skin would blind most people in direct sunlight. Honestly, I don't wear a lot of black to scare people, but to protect their eyes. It's pretty uncomfortable on hot days and nights, especially in summer when people are dying of heatstroke. I find it more bearable in winter, to keep out the cold. After all, I'm not a very warm person to begin with.

I wouldn't say most people like me, though I've had my share of stalkers. I guess I understand. I'm not the most pleasant person. I kill a room when I enter it. Most children cry when they see me, but the elderly seem to like me well enough. They smile at me like I'm a familiar friend. Sometimes we talk for hours, sometimes they have nothing to say, but the old always take my hand.

It's hard to get a date when you're like me. My hands are ice cold, so no girl wants to hold them. I have a morbid sense of humor that girls don't appreciate. Goth girls seem to like it, but it's been my experience that they prefer to talk about me behind my back than see me face to face. At least we both tend to like dark, cozy restaurants.

I may show up unannounced, but at least I'm a gentleman. No matter who the person is, I don't discriminate.  I think I'm a basically good person, though you might disagree.

Thanks for listening to me, Doctor. I think you're a great therapist. Unfortunately, I have to admit that I came here to this appointment, for more than one reason. You see, today is your deathday, and it's time to take you. I promise this scythe may come as a shock, but it won't hurt you. It will kill you, but it won't hurt you.