Memories, fleeting like a lost dove,
through the vast patterns of
shadow and light called my mind.
My breathing, a
s s e n s s s a t i o n,
for where am I if not here?
I know nothing of beginnings
sitting in the endless light,
the thought flitting past,
To remember is to know.
24/10/01 Creamy Dreamy, Nuttier than squirrel shit.
Tim and I are in the St. Helens Safeway parking lot. It is being repaved. I am in front of the store and I see Tim get in a car with three fat, trashy women. I call him and ask what he is doing. He says he is going to the studio. I say “But I thought you were gonna go with me and I would drop you off at the studio later?” He is speechless and confused. Then we are walking through the area being repaved, which is suddenly our bedroom. Timothy is trying on some new clothes in the bathroom. I hand him pants and a shirt, and he closes the bathroom door. I watch the man paving our floor in silence. The bathroom door opens and Tim says “What do you think?” He is wearing the pants and shirt I had given him. “Wow!” I say, “You are so sexy and handsome!” Suddenly we are in the living room. We are on the lam from a big scary mob guy (BSMG). I look out the window and see the mob guy enter the building. I sit on the toilet (which is located in the kitchen of our apartment) and begin to defecate. The elevator, which is located in front of the toilet, begins to descend. I jump on top of the toilet to hide. BSMG and his Butler are in the elevator and both look directly at me without actually seeing me as they pass my floor. The elevator stops one floor below ours, and the BSMG steps out and walks away, Butler in tow. I continue defecating and try to flush. The toilet is plugged because of the elevator. I still have to go, so I continue defecating, and it comes out of a hole in the windowsill. I am sooo disgusted and grossed out. I cant just leave it there, so I wrap my hand in toilet paper and pick it up, then throw it in the toilet. No matter how much I wipe my ass it does not come clean. I really need to flush, so I call the elevator up. The toilet still will not flush, and begins to overflow into the elevator shaft. BSMG’s Butler is pissed! He climbs the shaft and starts yelling at me. I try again in confused consternation to flush the toilet. It shatters, exploding toilet water and shit all down the elevator shaft, coating the Butler in a thick layer. The elevator is now broken, and the Butler is worrisome and terrified. “BSMG is gonna kill me. He’s gonna kill me! I took out the stairs! He is stuck down there now! No way out except elevator and it’s broken! He’ll kill me! There’s shit allover! I’m gonna die!!” He stops and sits at my kitchen table, depressed. “I am so sorry,” I say. I felt bad for him. Tim comes in and we offer Butler some pot. We tell him he will feel better. I take two hits from the vaporizer and Butler offers some crystal meth. I say sure and he hands me my cat. My cat? “Where is it?” I ask, confused. He points to her feet and I scrape the meth off her paws. I get a crack pipe from Tim and load it, then I see Butler has a clear plastic case full of meth nuggets. I ask for one and tell Tim we are splitting it. I ask for a razor and a CD case to cut it on and tell Tim there is enough for two small lines. He doesn’t really approve but is going along anyways.
BEEP BEEP BEEP the alarm goes off and I wake up.
22/10/01 Question this dream between the truths, learning before believing.
I am at the barn, the sky is a line of flaming orange in the west igniting the dark green forest looming in front of it. I am cleaning Fatimas stall, there are piles of garbage in it. For instance, an egg mcmuffin wrapper from Mcdonalds. I pick it up and think, “Why the fuck is this in here? McDonald’s is soo nasty, I would never eat there!” I finish cleaning her stall and pat her goodbye. I peer into her buddy Bruce’s stall. He is sick and there are piles of garbage in his stall too./ I clean out the garbage, thinking Robin would be pissed at me for going in there. I think “ I will tell her I needed to use the mirror to put in my barrettes and while I was in there I picked out the garbage.” Robin shows up and I tell her. She asks where the vet is, he was finishing up with a gray horse. Then Robin, Clara, and I are sitting outside the barn at a picnic table, smoking pot and talking. There is an airplane in the sky with a terrorist in it. We decide to leave. Clara offers me a ride and we hop on her bicycle. The barn is in Scappoose, behind Fred Meyers. When we reach the road, as we are peddling along, the plane descends and shoots two fireballs at us. It continues its descent and turns into a flying bicycle. He shoots again and we dodge the fireballs. We continue peddling frantically towards the terrorist on the flying bike. As we pass, he holds up his right hand, index and middle finger up. The universal sign for “two.” I ask Clara what this means and she says it means he will kill us both in two days. We continue on our way peddling through Scappoose. We eventually out-peddle him and leave him behind. His bike turned back into a plane and flew away. When we get to Vernonia hwy, he was back up high in the sky. We jump into a ditch on the side of the road to hide, two stray fireballs had almost hit us. He did not see us and leaves, so we continue to my moms house. When we get there, my mom is behaving strangely. Void, vacant. My bedroom does not have curtains and is warped, grainy, and creepy. I quickly leave and walk back to the living room. The whole house is creepy. I ask Clara if she would like to stay, its dangerous out there. She declines as she has to get home. She leaves. On TV is the terrorist. He is still in the plane. He has granted an interview, as long as the questions are asked by one of his minions. I am not watching this on the television but from the cockpit of the airplane, although I am not really there. The first questions asked is “Why are you wearing an oxygen mask? It’s making fun of people who really need them! You don’t need one when your flying in that kind of plane, everybody knows!” A look of doubt crosses his face, and after a few more moments of hassling, he takes it off. He seems fine for a moment, but he is immediately weakened by the lack of oxygen. He is unable to lift the mask back to his face. He opens the window for fresh air. He is not getting enough and sticks his head out. He is slowly sucked out of the window. I think “O my god the plane will crash! I hope it goes down in an unpopulated area!” Then I wake up.
There was an alien invasion and because of this, the government became very interfering and controlling, and took away many of our rights. Tim and I are walking in downtown Portland in them middle of winter. All is dark and surreal. Twilight time. Some snowfall on the ground, bare trees, dark buildings. The lights in town are turned off for our protection, to keep us hidden. Tractors, tanks, and military personnel are all over the place. We are sharing a home with 10 other people because of the alien invasions, no one lives alone, and everyone lives in large groups. So Tim and I are unable to sleep together or make love. I am in the shower. The water turns off every two minutes because we are not supposed to take any longer than that in the shower, due to government restrictions. I finally finish bathing. Tim and I are to be sent on a mission to find someone who supposedly could save us from the aliens. Everyone, even our wise, ancient, white bearded leader, all suddenly believes in god. All the atheists believe in god! Timothy and I are walking through a tunnel with our leader, talking about why everyone is suddenly a believer and Tim says “well, people need it, to feel better about all this.” I get very angry and start screaming at our venerable leader, my shrieking voice bouncing insanely off the tunnel walls. “Why the fuck does everyone suddenly believe in god! Aliens attacking us is no proof! I WILL NEVER BELIEVE WITHOUT PROOF! HAS EVERYONE GONE MAD??? THERE IS NO GOD!!!” When the echoes had cascaded out of the tunnel and all was silent again, he said “Well, just between you and I, I don’t believe in god either, but there’s nothing we can do about it so shut your mouth and pretend, for your own safety! If the masses get angry there’s no telling what they will do, even hurting or killing the one denouncing their god!” Then I woke up.
I Mostly Use My Brain to Fill Out the Shape of My Head
When I was 14 or 15 years old, my older brother and I had a friend named Mike. Mike was a riot, always fun to be around and goof off with. My mother had a boyfriend at the time named dan. Dan was a prick and we all hated him. At the time, dan was in jail on various charges and was keeping some of his stuff at our house, including a datsun 240z (which my brother and friend roger ended up totaling, hahaha but that’s another story), and a tow-camper. Mike, Aaron, and I decided to check it out, to see if there was anything interesting in there. Sticky girly mags, some rotting carpet, and a round container about 5 inches in diameter and 2 inches deep, filled to the brim with… Gunpowder! Well we decided to have our own pyrotechnics show. The plan was to cut up a wick from an oil lamp, plant it in the container, stand back and watch it explode! Looking back it seems a less than intelligent plan. We put the wick in the container, leaving about an inch standing up. Mike was to light it because he was the tallest and could run faster than Aaron or I, who stood a safe distance away, about 20 feet. Mike lit the wick and jumped back, but it fizzled. He went back over to it, stood over it, and couldn’t get the lighter to do anything more than spark. Suddenly KABOOM! It exploded in a dark cloud of smoke and the stench of burning hair. “Oh SHIT!! MIIIIKE!!” we wailed. I was terrified that he had been maimed during the explosion. Aaron and I ran toward the smoke and mike came stumbling out of it. We hurried up to him and choked on the smell of burning hair. All that remained of Mikes prized goatee was curly, white, singed stubble. His eyelashes were gone and his eyebrows were also reduced to singed stubble. After determining the mike was uninjured Aaron and I busted up in laughter. Aaron and I continued laughing as mike went inside to wash away as much dead hair as possible and try to wash away the stench. Unfortunately for him, the stench stayed with him for a few days. He ended up having to shave off his goatee compeltely, and it took a while for his eyebrows to grow to the point where he could trim off the singed ends. Lesson learned? Next time get a longer wick! HAHA!
Imagine watching yourself dream from 3 perspectives: Inside the dream experiencing it; inside the dream but watching it detached, observing rather than participating; and outside the body, watching your physical body move and observe changes throughout the night.
Humans were gifted by evolution with a superior awareness of not only self, but a higher intelligence with the ability to deduce. For this reason, they are given the responsibility of being the caretakers of this planet and all species of life on it. Instead, the majority rape, pillage, and destroy any part of nature that gets in their way or can profit them. If the dominant species on this planet were peaceful, responsible, and caring, the life on this planet would have a much better chance of surviving.
Screaming through the tunnel, surrounded by people of which it takes only one to end my existence. Just one fanatic with a small bomb could kill everyone in the tunnel. In the blink of an eye, reality turns into a terrifying monster before my reality and I disappear permanently.
Aunt Karen and kids are living in a really old house. The floors are all collapsing, we must skirt around holes and test every step. We are wandering through this giant, creepy old house, in and out of rooms used for nothing more than storage. The kitchen is also used for storage and when we reach it, cousin Jeffrey pulls a giant green plastic mailbox into the hallway. Inside is a sword made of cardboard and shaped like a 4-sided obelisk. It appears to have a mind of its own. We take it out of the mailbox. It flies!!! It keeps going back in the mailbox, even attacking us if we try to stop it. We decide it is probably possessed somehow and best left in storage in the kitchen. We try to put the mailbox back in the kitchen, but have difficulties because the floors are collapsing and the mailbox is suddenly very, very heavy.
I am a child but not Rachael child. After an end of the world type situation I am walking around just trying to survive. Most adults are dead and it is always dark and gloomy; always night. There are four others in my little group of survivors, we have banded together for the benefit of all though before the disaster we were strangers. There are two other kids, a man, our monster friend, the blob dude, and myself. Big scary monsters abound, though not really hunting us down. We had recently been in a fight with a monster, he kicked our asses! Of course stronger than us kids, he threw us easily off of him. The adult was just as easily thrown; the blob dude was only slightly more difficult for the monster to throw, even though he was supposed to be really, really strong. We ran.
The cold truth is that there is no real meaning to life. However, there is a purpose: to procreate and continue the evolution of life. It doesn’t make me feel meaningless, it is actually reassuring. Life is precious, and even getting the opportunity to live is amazing and wonderful. I am grateful to have the opportunity to experience life. Even more grateful that I can appreciate life, have a sense of self, and can see the uniqueness of life. So many humans waste it, thinking they will go on to a better place (heaven) or come back in a better life (reincarnation), and don't experience every moment of it for what it is - your one chance to be alive, thinking, and feeling. Most humans accredit their existence to a creator and don't realize this one chance is all they will get to have a self. I find it so much more incredible and amazing that I, and humans in general, are here completely by chance and random mutations. It took billions of years for me to be created and for millions more years, life on earth will continue to evolve and change.
I wonder what aliens are like? I would so much love to meet a species with the intelligence required to conquer interstellar travel. I imagine they are very wise and have survived some incredible disasters wrought by their own intelligence. I think it would have a worldwide, beneficial change if aliens were to visit us. Creationists and other religious extremists would be forced to re-examine their beliefs, and humans would have to wake up to the fact that neither we, nor our planet, are invincible.
Sitting on MAX watching the trees on the distant hills. The green turns to brown and the needles fall to the ground. They eventually are dust, and all that is left are the bare trees, dead, sunburned, the brittle branches gradually break and fall to the bare earth. They too crumble into dust. Soon all that is left of the beautiful green forests is the windswept dirt beginning to cover the dead and broken tree stumps, a bleak reminder of the beauty here that was carelessly destroyed. Over time, even these too become nothing more than unremarkable dust on a now dead planet. The rare and precious gift of life that was bestowed upon this insignificant yet lovely planet had been damaged irreparably in a few hundred years by the very life it had sheltered and nurtured for millions of years.
Another little golden nugget of truth: Fear not death, for you will not know it!
This man sat next to me on the Max. He looked like he had a mild case of Down's. He asked the man sitting to my right for 25 cents. The man said no. He then turned to me and said "Sis, do you have 25 cents?" I had just spent all my change on a MAx ticket, so I told him that I don’t have any. He then began starting at me blatantly, looking away every few minutes, and then staring again. I abhor being stared at. After about 10 minutes, I called my grandmother to let her know I was on my way, hoping this would cause him to turn away. He stared at me through the entire conversation. When my call was finished, I put the phone away, pulled out my sunglasses, pointedly looked him directly in his eyes, and covered mine with my sunglasses, staring hard at him the entire time. He finally looked away.
I’ve been watching Stephen Hawking’s Universe lately. So.... If all matter that crosses the event horizon of a black hole, is gradually crushed to a tiny, tiny point… The big bang started as a tiny point… Maybe black holes give birth to universes? It wouldn’t explode out of the end that sucks everything in though; maybe it explodes into another dimension/universe out the "other side"? The universe began when all matter was condensed to a single point smaller than a period. So why did it condense into such a small point? Black holes have this effect on matter. Is there other phenomenon in the universe that has the same effect on matter? If our universe was caused by a black hole, where is the universe, which that one exploded out of? At the beginning of time? So where did the first black hole start and how was that universe created?
And when was time?
Why is matter here at all? Where did the very first piece of matter (energy) come from, the matter that was condensed to a point at the beginning of our universe? Why is there anything at all? Why is there not Nothing? it's so maddening...
Silently alike we meet
between life and thought
with intuition we love
delirious in our together.
While on my way to Finlandia, a man got on the bus. He was really large and shaped like The Mayor in "Nightmare Before Christmas." He had on a brown hat and his face was covered in long black stubble. On the right side of his mouth and chin was a bloody red area. It looked as thought he had either been eating bloody raw meat and not wiped his mouth, or he had picked and scratched his face until it was bloody. After one of the other passengers got off, he said, very loudly, "Excuse me Miss! EXCUSE ME MISS!!" to the woman who had said goodbye to the passenger who just departed. "HAVE YOU EVER HEARD THE SONG "THE HANGING TREE"?!?" I had just been thinking to myself how creepy this guy was, that made him seem even creepier! She distastefully responded with a negative, and he abruptly turned straight forward and disappeared into his own world.
4/8/02 Corporate Casual
After having a conversation with Bob in our apartment downtown, Timothy motioned to me and suggested I check out the dudes walking toward us through the parking lot across the street. One was a super short, thin Asian moog, and one a tall, obese big white moog, both with dark hair and goatees. They were walking in step and dressed identically in brown hiking shoes, white ankle socks, khaki shorts, and dark blue t-shirt. This coupled with the identical hair goatees and walking in step made for quite the spectacle. Timothy exclaimed loudly that they were dressed identically and started laughing. When I looked out the window I started laughing harder and louder than I have in a long time. The window was open! The little guy seemed to know what we were laughing about as he looked first at his outfit, then the big guys outfit, and both turned and seemed to look directly at me as I collapsed to the floor in a fit of loud, uncontrollable laughter.
30/8/02 Dreaming of Vestigial Giggles
Just woke from a dream in which I had a gray arab stallion at my moms house. i was waiting for a bus to Portland and working with him. He was being pushy and managed to knock me over and get out. He ran up the road with me chasing him yelling "DAMMIT!! IM GONNA GELD YOU WHEN I CATCH YOU!!!"
If the Alexandrian library had not been destroyed by religion and science had prevailed, we might be living on another planet right now, and space travel would be as commonplace as flying is today. Imagine if a species had in its possession a book of their history! If I could alter one thing in history I would save the Alexandrian library, or at least the Book of Knowledge said to have been housed there.
Timothy and I are on the lam. Timmy said we should head out to the coast, so we did. We stopped on the road to get some sleep but a cop immediately pulled in behind us and said we couldn’t sleep there. So we kept going. We were driving thorough an extremely wooded, mountainous area. We came upon a small shack perched atop a small, high cliff, hardly more than an outcropping of rock. We went in and found the bathroom, which had an out of order sign on it. We wanted to bathe but the sign said this place didn’t have running water. We were disappointed about not being able to bathe when the owner of the shack walked in and apologized for the lack of running water. We then left the shack and were driving in our convertible through the countryside. We stopped at a store in a town with a population of about 7000 people and were quickly recognized. We left posthaste, the small town cop in hot pursuit. He was determined to catch us, as it would be his big break. We came to an abandoned manufacturing campus on which stood another tiny shack, kept by a blind man. Timothy made arrangements for us to live there, on the upper floor, which was the size of a bathroom. The middle floor, which was to be the blind mans, was the size of a twin bed. The fat cop pulled up next to one of the manufacturing buildings; he had found our hideout. With nothing to lose and nowhere to go, we ran to the roof and jumped…
…and as we fell hundreds of feet to the forest below, we became one person. The thick, lush, deciduous rain forest trees and bushes caught us, slowing our fall as we crashed through the branches until we came to a halt inches above the ground and climbed out of the broken brush. We checked our selF for broken bones and found only scratches and bruises. We took off at mad run through the forest dodging spider webs and tree stumps. We fell into a ravine and suddenly we're
out of the sky, heading straight down for a lone fir tree standing between an old farmhouse and railroad tracks. We land in the tree, impaling our selF on a tree branch, gurgling as we take our last breath and expire.
9/10/02 Dreamkeepers of the Divine Bomb
“If we set off a Noo-Ku-Lar B-O-M-B near a black hole, a worm hole will appear!” he said.
“But a black hole is caused by a collapsing star with so much gravity that even light cannot escape. Where are you going to get a black hole?” I responded. “This theory of yours doesn’t make any sense.”
So the argument went. He had his idiot sidekick at the launch button. Knowing I was running out of time, I tried desperately to show them the errors in their thinking. When the bomb exploded, , he pushed me to the ground yelling “GET DOWN! GET DOWN!!! FUCK!!! IT DIDN’T WORK!! FUCK!!!” Suddenly we are outside the building, which was made completely of transparent, sickly green glass, watching the mushroom cloud hanging gracefully behind it. He took his cell phone out of his pocket, swearing. “Fuck! I’ve gotta tell him not to set off the other one!”
“WHAT! He has another?? What the fuck were you thinking!!!” I had a queer feeling in my stomach, a sickening combination of nausea and butterflies. I could see the sidekick (who happened to be my ex-boyfriend John) reaching for the button that would detonate the second nuke.
“Wait! WAIT!!” he cried as he dialed the sidekicks phone number. I heard the sidekick’s phone ring and immediately the second bomb exploded above us. I was miraculously unhurt. I was worried sick about my cat and went into my room to get her, and some personal belongings, as well as some clothing for the next few days. My room was steeped in radiation and I immediately began to feel enervated. My muscles became weaker and my thinking slowed. I fell to my knees and turned around to crawl out of my room. I was getting weaker, and breathing came hard. My lungs felt like they were filled with sand. I collapsed to my stomach, reaching my hand to the door, a foot away. I laid my cheek on the carpet and said my last goodbye to existence.
There is something about the autumn months that makes them feel a little more surreal than all of the other seasons. The sun hits differently, the air has a fresh sharpness, not really cold or hot, just sharp. Shadows are longer while the days grow shorter,. The landscape comes alive through its own death, in vibrant shades of orange and red highlighted by the constant green of the evergreen rain forests. Peacefulness settles over everything as the animals prepare for winter and the birds fly away to their winter vacation spots, gliding on the cool fall breezes. The moon often looms low on the horizon, a huge deep orange face peering curiously through our atmosphere, observing our scurrying and wondering why when all other life is slowing, humans are still conducting all facets and patterns of their monotonous lives. The increasingly bare trees greet the adventurous with open arms, inviting to be climbed, offering closer examination of the beautifully hued leaves before they glide elegantly to the ground, where they crunch and shatter delightfully underfoot. A wind rustles and blows the fallen into a thick carpet which disintegrates into a fine dust, fertilizing the land that birthed it as it decomposes.
A massive roundup and segregation of people, one of which was me. We were all put in a large house at the edge of a huge lake. At the opposite end of that lake was a small mountain, not much more than a hill, really. It was covered in a lush forest and wild grapevines. The mountain somehow made us all go nuts and we started killing each other. We didn’t figure out what was going on until only seven of us remained. Grape juice made from the grapes on the mountain stopped our aging process. We didn’t know until we had a visitor from the outside world who was supposed to be our age but was now old and decrepit.
Being hit by a car on my bicycle. I feel the thud, see the ground fast approaching and instinctively curl into a ball, but my foot catches on the bike. Instead I land splayed on the concrete, bone and flesh twisted with metal, distorted and broken. But what if it happened on the Hawthorne bridge? Flying over the railing, somersaulting with my bike. A shoelace is wrapped around a pedal. We hit the water in a heap. I open my eyes, looking for up. The bike is tangled in me and I shrug it off, reaching for daylight above. Running out of air, struggling for daylight, my progress ever slower as the bicycle pulls me to my final resting place at the bottom of the river.