walking in a hallway dark not scary but dim and then with b, into a cafeteria-looking room and we have been looking for something but not finding it, and she is in trouble for killing a man and we’re not friends but not enemies either and things are tense and awkward and i want it to be unfuckedup and friends because she needs help and i could do something and i hate feeling like this, compromised into being unable to be friends, but can’t forgive without some sign of friendship, or caring, and there’s just words and platitudes and i do not want to be here but am forced to (the way that you don’t know why you have to do something in a dream but you just know it) so i do it and the tension is worse but i’m not angry just sad, overwhelmingly sad, and it’s dim like we’re where even sadness is something to see and the look on her face is best described as vexed or “i know something needs to be done but i don’t know what” and i wake.
party, loud, obnoxious, siba is there and i am flirting, things get romantic and i wind up at the Dr’s who is telling me I have an STD while he holds a syringe.
vacation: sucked, I worked on the house and w/ the fam (jesus they are tireless)
work: I am a hero and an unsung rockstar of unprecedented caliber. we had a server — the one and only web server, the one that has hard drives that grriiiiiiiinnnnnddddd when they spin up and has therefore not been turned off for 5 years and then because of a power failure, and not been updated for about 10 years — have it’s PSU blow up and catch fire. despite this, I was able to get us working (hobbled, but hey) for the few days it took to get the machine repaired.
i bought a jawesome! map in a magnelephant frame at my dad’s neighbors’ moving out garage sale. my ex-landlord is in foreclosure and I picked up 3 GTA games for 30 bux.
this morning i dreamt that had gone to sleep late (i had) and got woken up by my cell and it was she calling to say there were things unsaid. i never got to hear them because the alarm went off.
Big Black’s “Kerosene”, live. Steve Albini, one of the most antagonistic and principled people in the music business. Check the credits in your record collection, I bet you’ve got something he’s producedrecorded.
My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult’s “A Daisy Chain 4 Satan”, live. I recently found the MLWTTKK website again and now it’s got PDF’s of the lyrics. Whoa, I’ve been singing this song wrong for ~10 years now. I like my version better, even if the only lyric I could make out was, in fact, wrong. (I keep singing “dream war” instead of “dream why”).
i am in my bedroom, fooling w/ a guitar — it’s an 8 string fretless bass with a jelly body that only flexes when i want it to, weighs nothing and is impossible to tune. someone joins me and i am in a music store, and we bullshit and i leave and outside it’s like an office bldg downtown or miami dade and a rocket goes off and then i driving on a highway — elevated, like a bridge — my viewpoint goes from 3rd person to 1st as i zoom into myself and i am driving with an older woman; attractive, tall, slender but not thin. we are flirting but driving on our way to stop a missle or rocket. we see one take off from the water, and then i am on a cliff but there’s a waterfall and a sort of setup where people can ride carts perpendicular to the fall and if they get to the edge without toppling they win — a sort of contest. first couple sink immediately, the 3rd dude starts to make it but has no traction in the water — no weight in the back to keep the paddles in the water — and when he finally sorts that out, winds up shooting right over the fall. the 4th dude makes it to the edge and speeds off and whoa i am him now except now it’s a car (shitty pseudo sporty car) and i am driving down roads with a lot of very S. FL. undergrowth encroaching — palms etc — and i get to a light and i see lisbert talking to a blond girl looks like priscilla but i want to call her jessica and yet is neither, and lis is telling this girl how to be a flirt and i drive off and as i drive the path behind me changes so that if i turn around (with great difficulty at an intersection — fucking trucks!) the way is not what it had been. eventually there’s a place where the path is submerged and i am riding a tricycle like abuela gypsi’s but lucky it’s not deep water — to the ankle at most — except something scratches or bites my right ankle as i’m about 4/5ths of the way out and as i stop on solid land i wake.
i am in a huge hosue — many floors, rooms, almost an apt bldg or office bldg — and organizing a tribute or compilation album and sonic youth is there, and lee ranaldo was being a total dick to me, second guessing my every choice on the record; “why are you doing it like this? what’s wrong with that?” etc etc. amusing because i don’t think i’ve ever even heard the man speak. lots of things happened — friends showed up etc — but nothing really bad or sad. i wake confused.
I am in a classroom, at university, it is dark but not in a bad way — like an overcast day or just late afternoon — and I have just left one class and come to this one, it is my first day and it is a language class. The prof is a mix between buddy-buddy and piss & vinegar, a younger randall prentis jones perhaps less cynical or less overt about his affected cynicism. this is not said, it’s just one of those things you know in dreams, although his manner and how he speaks give some of it away. i like this class very much and afterwards there is some congregation of the students and it starts to feel somewhat like an impromptu party or get together and she’s there and a palpable wave of sadness just washes over me, and i am sorry we cannot be friends, that we hurt each other so, and i grieve and i am walking in an outside hallway at an apartment complex, so familiar but i’ve never been there, and it’s my uncle’s place but it isn’t the real place, just in my dream i know that this is his place and it’s by the sea, somewhat like mercy hospital is with a malecon right by there, and it’s breezy but not overly, and the water crashes against the rock barrier in a languid almost calm way while i knock on the door and there’s a dog, and i have to get something or do something in the apartment and i finish up and walk out and now there’s a light forest between the water and the exterior hallway and it’s still late afternoon when the twilight starts to cool and darken and she’s there and we don’t say anything but we’re friends again and laughing at something silly and i realize it’s a dream and i wake.
My Bloody Valentine’s “Loveless” is the most intense music to have sex to, ever. 4 days later and I still have a headache. I can’t describe it more than to say it’s a lot of overwhelming, and it made me feel every single moment in slow motion. Beats Acid Mother Temple’s “La Novia” and Miles’ “Kind of Blue” hands-down. The tantric breathing might have helped, though. cf: convo w/ lisbert w/r/t the french calling the orgasm “the little death” circa 97? before our big falling out ages ago.
I saved my cousin Veronica’s life when I was 9 and she was i want to say 5; pulled her out of the pool by her hair. Hans, Tio Mel’s Shepherd, just standing there, Michelle confused and screaming. Tio Mel going WTFWTF and he pulled her out of the water. I don’t know why summer reminds me of that.
Dream: 8jun07 high school classrooms, the hall next to the band room, one of the piano labs is now a business office and ex-co-workers are there telling me how much they miss my company1. Leave and into hallway B walks fast and pointedly does not make eye contact with me; i can feel the fury in her movements. Amusingly everyone is dressed in Victorian clothing. There’s something about cars — a trans am? something like that — and a double bass is involved somewhere. Something weird about geometry in the dream, spatial relationships — walls, floors, hallways etc — keep shifting. It’s off-putting. I wake confused.
Birthdays past and birthdays coming up…must remember to remember. Or something.
Segue: Nikola Tesla, synesthete, genius and all around weirdo has been on my mind of late.2
1 Actually this is correct. Vij has lamented to me how it’s no fun anymore, whereas most everyone else is all “so things are better without D around, eh?” No one really appreciates the curative powers of levity; my main function those last weeks was keeping V from hating the job as much as I did.
sonic youth vid in honor of new friend apparently. litl troubl grl, seems a conglomerate of dee, bee, sun, ces, maybe a bit of reven. whoa havent thought of her in ages. also briefly remembered RA from 7thh grade? funny i remember edgar mocking because she was so annoying and i was crushing and all i remember about that is feeling bad. tht’s not true but i don’t want to remember any more details. the past a different country etc
dream: haiti, lines in travel queues waiting to get in, driving around, rose w/ me then stace, inside a bodega looking place the trouble starts — zombies, well, it’s haiti, what do you expect — and in a building next to the shack we’re sheltering in, above & looking down from a party, b is dancing and laughing and i’m in it to my neck and it’s no picnic but i feel pity for her, and i don’t know if i’m forcing myself or not but there’s knifework to be done so the unexamined life prevails. i get us out, but we lose stuff. i shrug. stuff is easy to replace.
