This morning I had another crazy dream. I always have crazy dreams, so when I have one that is really over the top, it makes an impression on me. I think that this one came to me so that I would write something, and I haven’t been writing anything, because I haven’t had anything to write about. I feel like I am drifting in a sort of sludge, and also when I haven’t written, then I start to resent writing. And when I start to resent writing, it really is all over until something intense smacks me in the face and makes me do it. Writing is sort of like a lover that way.

Also, it has been very cold here in San Diego. I fear that people from the far corners of my reality will be like are you fucking crazy? Do you REALLY think it is cold there? And I can only counter with – no, it is not REALLY cold here. But when it is fifty degrees it seems like twenty because a) we are simply not used to it and b) neither are our houses. My little beach shack is freezing inside. No matter how long I run the heat it never warms up. All of a sudden I am aware of the fact that I am aging, because in this little cold spell we have had, the joints in my fingers and toes got all swollen and hard to move. It is really, really, REALLY scary. Aging I mean. For a good forty years you look all baby faced and shit and then all of a sudden, Rheumatoid fucking arthritis. These changes are scary, also humbling. Maybe I am not so invincible as I thought I was.

So, then, the dream. I was on a plane, a big 7trillion7, going from here to Europe or something like that. There was a long time in the dream where I was on the plane, walking to and fro and watching movies and stuff like that, but then all of a sudden I was outside, and the top of the plane had no top. It was like a cruise ship plane. So I was hanging out up there for a while and then all of a sudden George Bush Senior was there and he was like, GET DOWN! I looked over the edge and there were little planes shooting at each other and also, at some targets on the ground. I bent over and kept walking and as I walked, I felt a bullet graze my back. George Bush Senior saved my life! But, in the end our 7trillion7 got shot down, but went down slowly and landed easily, as plane crashes in dreams do.

Then we were on the ground, in a green, lush, and I guess, war-torn country. Someone else from the plane was there with me, and we knew we had to save everyone else on the plane, but they had all turned into kernels of corn. Only coach though – first and business had been wiped out – vaporized. Only the people in coach were left and they were now corn. I had to rescue the kernels from ziplock bags that they had somehow ended up in after the crash, and put them into piles so they could breathe. At one point my associate said, how do we know if they are still alive? And I said YO! CORN! GIVE US A SIGN! At which point all the kernals started to shimmy and then we knew that we had saved them all.

It’s the end of the year and I feel that big changes are coming, and that is possibly why I am dreaming about saving corn, and also about the possibility that Bush Sr could save ME. Well, who knows what it all really means. It could be, most simply, that I am a creative person and I am doing fuck all with that. But I am thinking, thinking, thinking… about how to make the most of the years I have left before the really bad stuff sets in. I am thinking. Fight or flight… and the flight sounds better about now. So where should I go?

This entry was posted on Thursday, December 21st, 2006 at 8:17 pm and is filed under My Overactive Imagination. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.