I had a dream that I was hanging out. I was in a motorized wheel chair. I had apparently lost the use of my legs. Don Amiche (of Cocoon fame) was giving me a tour of the facilities. He was "on point", which apparently meant that his leg was casted and completely immobile, thus, he later explained, why he had to go through doorways backwards in his motorized wheelchair. Don and I had a good time.

I biked round to my friend's ex-girlfriend's house (I don't know why). After I took off my helmet, her butler(she doesn't have a butler, of course) brought me a drink - it was a pale red, with ice cubes. I drank, and discovered that the drink was drugged. She seduces me (which I only half-remember), and then when I wake up/recover I look down, and see that my body is covered in flies. I move, and the flies fly off. The flies' feet have left black marks on my skin, which looks like very small-print scripture. Which is a way cool image.

When I woke up, I told my girlfriend about this dream. She looked surprised - that same night she'd dreamt that she'd slept with my friend. It was very bizarre.
- / +

  • Walking through New Orleans with my brother who never talked and was barely there, and my mother, and a woman who was also my mother, but worse. I could not get enough of the sun. I knew it was burning me, felt it as a poison, but would not shade myself. It felt good to be poisoned.

    An endless guided tour of the city. A shop which sold Mardi Gras crap. Crowns of green and pink grapes, I could not tell if they were wax. A hummingbird had been following us for miles, like a guardian. My worse mother lunged for it, tried to smash it in her fist. I screamed and everyone looked. She was such a horrible woman. I put my hand up until one lit on me, then slowly, gently, closed my hand. Stinging pain. What – a hornet? No, a dozen black ants, two dozen, I crushed them but there was always one more to crush. The hummingbirds were gone for good.

  • Waiting for the mail. Writing again to edebroux, hoping for a letter from her. It was busy and I told people the mail hadn’t come yet, before they bothered looking. The whole world was hoping for letters from the war. I prayed she was all right.

    Cecil Adams/Casey Casem was there and thanked me “sort of” for bringing up the question about Christmas ants. Said they were still talking about it in Africa, still no conclusive answer.

  • Every time I looked at it, it was closer – the crazy blue and gold Microsoft building next to my house. I walked past the window again and again to make it seem closer. I wanted to photograph it but the windows were sealed. There was a giant skylight, though, opened by a black metal pole that ran from ceiling to floor. I watched it for days until I figured it out. I slid the skylight open and shut, hoping no one would stop me, watching the sunlight fire the floor two stories below me. It reminded me of the poison of New Orleans so long ago.

  • digging a hole in the living room dirt I found my teddy bear. How did I bury this? mystified. Finally I realized that when I had been packing the box which has sprung out of the dirt, the bottom flap must have come open, and the bear slid into the hole before the dirt sealed itself. Just luck I found it again.
  • Reincarnation Explained

    • I am alone in a large music store, after-hours, staying there late into the night to research Brad Mehldau CDs that I plan on purchasing. Around 4am, janitors arrive to clean the place up for today's opening. I shuffle off and return to where I am staying in this city: the small apartment of a much-aged (90s or so) lady who has kindly rented me a room. I've been living here for some time and have become very good friends with her. Our relationship has evolved from renter/landlord to dear friends. I help her out with things in her old age and she gives me wise advice and a roof over my head.

      This night is different. I come home around 4:30am to find her up and awake. I'm startled but she says she has been waiting for me. I apologize for being so late but she shrugs it off with a smile and says it's unimportant. Her behavior is strange but she appears happy and radiant. After short conversation, she says she has something very important to tell me. She is dying and will pass away in a few short minutes. I'm startled but she has more to add. She describes the process where a soul, about to leave its body, may consciously choose which body to inhabit next. Conscious reincarnation. She tells me she has chosen me as her vessel. She explains that the illusion of time has no meaning for the immortal Spirit and she will enter my body at my birth in 1979. Therefore, I am, in fact, already a reincarnation of her, destined to meet up with her when 21 years old to make the fated transfer. She is my past life. I am amazed at this realization and a little frightened at its concrete metaphysical implications. In my own mind, I make the observations:

      There is truly only one Soul that leaps from incarnation to incarnation, body to body, expressing the infinite varieties of consciousness. The order of incarnation is determined by karma. For those few lives whose ties to the manifold phenomenal universe are few, one may perceive the flow of future time with acute spiritual sight. People who are bound closely together by fate/karma are inevitably similar in characteristic (personality, genetics, behavior, thought-patterns, emotions, politics, etc). This is both the cause and effect (a self-fulfilling prophecy) of being so involved with each other in the storyline of time. Steeped in the spiritual atmosphere of the pre-dawn apartment living room, my own sight begins to expand. With intuitive ease, I see the lines of karma that link me to the old lady, just as I see so many likenesses (in every category) between my girlfriend Genery and I, my friends Mario, August, Allen, even Brad Mehldau. At this point, I have an intuition that he is my next conscious incarnation (too much Mehldau on the brain?).

      She sits down, smiling, by the window and a very strange thing happens as I stand facing her. I lose awareness of my own body and leave it behind (a very peculiar feeling never before experienced). I then feel myself in her body and it feels so strange and foreign like I was wearing an elaborate costume with wig and face mask. In front of me, my own 21 year-old body is nowhere to be seen. But in her body, I am her--not me. I remember my whole life as a woman up to this point. Then I remember my whole life as a 21 year-old. My ego and hers are superimposed. Just then, what can only be my soul remembers this trippy scene from the last time around. And even as I become self-aware of this, I am leaving her body in death. Again I feel out-of-body, except this time it's permanent and so hauntingly vivid. I am awe-struck and scared shitless. I float away. Dream ends.

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