March 15th, 2015

sword

Dreams

My older brother was visiting me and we ended up at a dive bar cafe sitting around a round table with a bunch of crazy characters – there was a large black girl with bad hair wearing a black vest and shorts and nothing else; her breasts hung out for all to see but no one seemed to notice or care. She was drunk and out of control, climbing onto the table and making a ruckus. A blonde, half naked cross dressing hippy came in and sang a show tune – he was actually quite good. An old gypsy woman with a green scarf tied on her head began to play the piano. I worried that the chaos and strangeness would upset my older brother who is very sheltered and conservative, but he was not bothered and appeared to be having a good time.

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I discovered fruit trees growing near my home and saw that there was delicious ripe fruit hanging on them. I thought to myself that I should come back with baskets and pick some for myself, but then it occurred to me that the trees were owned by a big fruit corporation. I decided that it wouldn't matter and no one would be able to tell that such a small fraction of fruit was missing. I made plans to freeze the cherries for use over the winter when such things would be scarce.

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Something important was dropped down a drainage pipe, but then I could see how all things are connected, and how the important thing would eventually end up being found by the exact people who would need it.

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I was in the kitchen of my new apartment – it had no furniture save for my old captain's chair. The walls had wainscoting and had been painted hundreds of times over, and the floors were thin slats of worn wood. It felt amazing to be in this space – my space – and I envisioned how nice it would be to live there. I put my feet up on the stove and relaxed and pictured myself relaxing like this every morning with a cup of coffee.

There were two rooms to my new apartment, so eventually I got up to go look at the second room.

It had the same old floor and walls, and large windows looked outside. Looking out, I saw that just beyond my window there was a bit of roof, so in the summer I would be able to sit out there like a balcony.

Then behind myself I heard the sound of birds inside and turned around to see that thousands of baby vultures were living in a small space sealed off by a row of short windowed cabinets built into the ceiling. The space had been a place for storage, but a hole had formed from the outside and the birds had taken it over. My presence had put them into a panic. They were frantically flying out through the hole in the roof, effectively clearing themselves from the space. They had little black heads and although they were babies they were already able to fly. There had been too many of them living in such a small space and some of them had become diseased. Others had maggots stuck to them. I was relieved to see them leave.