Little Weirds(11)



While we’re not quite at that point of ending your dream-life experience, we do need to have an honest discussion about this upsetting situation. The laziness and deeply boring nature of the waiting in line for sandwich dream is simply not something that we can tolerate, and it would do us all a disservice to sweep it under the rug. The airplane landing in day dream is discouraging, especially after all we’ve been through. The airplane first-class movement dream—as it has been labelled internally—has understandably caused great alarm and sadness.

Please come in and see us at your earliest convenience so that we can dialogue about this.

Sincerely,

The Committee for Evening Experiences



PS: Speaking of “sweeping things under the rug,” I don’t think you’d hear even a peep of objection if we were to have a repeat of Rug turns into carpet of flowers that are alive and you can wear the whole thing as a shawl and new blooms keep popping even as you walk casually through a cocktail party at the house of a nice older woman who supports your work. There have also been numerous requests for You are in the passenger seat of a van, sitting on the lap of a real dog who is the size of and style of Barkley from Sesame Street, and he is sitting like a person and you are on his lap and he is hugging you because he loves you and you are sharing a seatbelt and it is the time of year that is the seasonal bridge between spring and summer.





Trench-Times/Dream Dog

I know that thing, that thing of waking up but it’s all tinted gray and your blood is paste and your heart is a boring rock. I know that thing that has no voice but sucks the sound out, wasting it, not using it, leaving you either pale or red-faced. I know the gray thing.

There were the big problems: One man was gone from my life just about the time that another man pig-snorted his way into the presidency. And that made all of the littler problems much harder to face. I was downtrodden and, to my surprise, felt that having a good attitude was no longer worth it. I could not identify what was worthy and what was not. I didn’t know how or why to give myself small pleasures. Something would happen like I wouldn’t get a part in a film or I would cancel a show due to stage fright and I would just stay down at the bottom of the experience. I used to float up. Now I was just flipping out, flopping down.

For a while I would have trench-times when everything felt like blank paper and I couldn’t feel anyone’s heart pointed even in my direction, let alone anyone loving me or wanting me to be around. Very boring, very lonely, very tired, again. It was hard to feel anything, except I am not one of the creatures who will experience anything precious. Trench-times were shallow, heavy, and mean. I couldn’t get into the actual morning because I was stuck underneath the weight of my days.

One night I had a dream that I was sitting on the lap of a giant dog. We were in the front seat of a van and the window was open and the weather was fair. The dog was hugging me with great squeezes and we were sharing a seatbelt.

When I woke up I was inclined to throw away my joy because it is not real but then something in me jumped from deep below where I must have cast it down. I was always yelling Get down! to my resilience when I was in my trench-times. But the thing did not get down—in fact, it came up and out, blazing. This thing inside of me, encouraged by the dream of the nice good dog, yelled out, Your feelings of joy are not fake if you are having them! You are allowed to feel joy about sitting on the lap of a dog in a dream, and taking a ride in a van with open windows and sharing a seatbelt. God dammit, this is a gift from your fucking soul! Self-generate, don’t you see? Break the trap break the trap break the trap leave the trench! Activate the bomb in yourself and bust out, trick yourself out of that trench in any way you can!

I eventually got out of the bed, and there I was. I was out of the bed. I just got right out of the bed even though there was nothing to do and I was still very tired. My chest was laced through with an ever-tightening web of anxiety that was also reaching up into my throat and pressing my mouth down into a frown shape. I felt that nobody should see this posture of emotional twisting, this sour-seeming palsy, including myself. I could not even look at myself.

The only thing left was the number zero.

I spoke to myself in the voice of the giant dog from the dream.

Open a window up for yourself.

I found a window that opened.

There you are, do you know what you are doing? You are finding the new air for yourself. What a useful, good action to take. You are a person who got up and found the air. Take at least ten breaths. It’s a fact that this is the main thing that you need to do to stay alive, breathing, and now it is a treat. Look at you! You have done what the earliest geniuses have done: You have taken the most basic thing and elevated it. If you are sweet inside of yourself for the most part, this is the truth you will know.

I started to spend my extra time caring for myself in little ways that reminded me of the generosity of my dream-dog who shared his seatbelt. The big pet. My dream-dog. I think he was training me in my dreams so that I could eventually play well in my days.





Eclipse

I went outside of my hotel to watch the highly anticipated eclipse of the sun. It happened. The sun was eclipsed. All of the people were out on the sidewalk in New York City, sharing little eyeglasses made of paper, with the plastic lenses. I had no paper glasses. I saw a stranger and I looked shyly at the glasses he had and I asked, “Can I try?” The stranger gave me his glasses so that I could watch the sun become a strange orange fang poking through one side of the sky. A stranger helped me. Specifically, he helped me look into outer space. I said thank you, obviously. Related question: After this eclipse and group experience, is everyone else’s hair also made out of necklaces now and is your heart a plum with a golden marble in it that will spin eternally, like mine is? Final comment: It is very warming to think of the adults going to places to get the paper glasses, and to think of the adults who own a small store or bodega, and that they heard about the eclipse and then ordered the paper glasses, knowing that people would want to watch the rare thing that was going to happen.

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