Half awake, I thought I saw this:

on the end of my bed
facing the other way
reading the Wall street journal
your perfect upside down valentine swaying back 'n forth
keeping time to the music from downstairs
Artie Shaw
your barefeet crossed over each other
and across the room
the television was on
with the sound off
Face the nation

Linguistic Reasoning Is Spatial Reasoning

  • A crazy palimpsest of many dream plots superimposed on the same dream landscape... In one I am visiting my father in Southern California. In another I am a shy new transfer student to a boarding school for adolescent boys. In another, I witness a battle of X-men mutants. All three dream stories take place in and around the same building. In the boys' school I am tormented and teased in the large group shower. The X-men battle it out in the same room before busting down the wall to the outside and continuing the fight. My father and other relatives are standing around a dining room table when a small group of bees lands on my body. I feel their spiney feet moving across my skin under my shirt and I watch a pair of them attach themselves to my arm. Gently I try to maneuver them off of me but I get stung once before escaping. The whole group of my family is now leaving to drive back to Northern California, but I am taking a different route in my own car for some reason. It's night and I'm driving into the deserted hills outside the city. At some point my car is gone and I'm flying up into the sky. I know this is a dream and I concentrate my mind on that slippery knowledge so I won't lose it. I decide to fly as high as I can. The world flattens out below me, a tangle of dark underbrush and silhouette. I go higher and higher...and never come down.

It happened again: the sky was overcast and so black in the night. My apartment looked as corroded as ever, and dark as the bricks crumbled from its surface. I watched the clouds swim through the sky a hundred miles a second like they always do in those nature documentary shows on the discovery channel. Walking up the steps I entered the shadowy lobby to meet Harry, my old Chinese brother. He looked tired, and of course worn out. He began to speak to me in a dull tone I couldn’t understand. He was going away. The glazed look in his eyes betrayed the tears he was holding back.

“What’s wrong? You’re one of the only people that make this town worth living in. But I don’t live here anyway…” I recalled as I said it, this wasn’t my apartment: I was visiting for the week. I had been shipped off and away earlier that year.

“I’m sorry man, I just have to go.” He said shaking my hand and walking out the cracked lobby door.

The paint never looked so old. I slowly trudged up the stairs, three days into my visit; this city was blanketed with sadness. The door to our flat was open and I entered, the only light coming in through the kitchen window, a dull grey blue reflecting off the crooked morbid paintings. I went in to check on Der and found her lying on the bed, the sheets wrapped around her beautiful form. I leaned against the doorframe smiling down upon her, remembering…

“Come lay with me love,” cooed her soft and lovely voice, as she smoothly slid to make room for me. I rested myself against her, putting my arms around her. “I’ve missed you,” we seemed to say. My hand came to rest on her stomach, ever so soft, and ever so warm. So warm it burnt my icy hands, cold as winter they rest upon her sharing her energy, and gaining some warmth.

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