Friday, November 30, 2012

He doesn't love me

he loves her
I’m just the next best thing,
but far below
Bjork gets me
but he doesn't

...why am I kidding myself?

Thursday, November 29, 2012

we were at a house I’d dreamt of before, but this time it was my uncle’s house.
He told me I’d gotten fat.
I told him with tears “I’m sorry but I have an—”

“—eating disorder,” he finished.

I threw myself on a blow-up mattress.
He rubbed my back (he is not blood-related, and he’s hot, so this was erotic)
He told me that my mother would probably be able to help me better than him.

He told my mother about it.

she talked to me about it and I was mortified. I didn’t want that. Never. She could never know. would I have to go to treatment? How do people tell theit parents about their own issues? Would my dad find out? (he did)

Lots of other really neat things happened but that part is most important part.

When I woke up I was crying, and I thought, “Wait. That wasn’t a dream. That really happened. Oh god that was two days ago and that really happened and now I’m in my bed but I swear that was real oh my god can’t it be a dream why can’t this be a dream this can’t be real”

it wasn’t real.

but I didn’t realize that or remember it until five minutes ago

Poem From the Pitch-Blackness of Night


Writing in a notebook
in darkness
is harder than you could have
ever imagined.
but I’m desperate.

When the feeling’s right
you’ve got to get it out of you
before it eats you
from the inside
The mood moon waxes
and wanes
more rapidly than
usual
and I begin to see my scrawl.
I wish the light
would go away.
Sometimes it takes darkness
for the truth to come out
like a roach you knew
was hiding there
but didn’t want to
acknowledge.

(even in the dark my pen found the lines) 

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Sunday, November 25, 2012

hah. well.

I was right to be terrified to sleep.

I had a nightmare.

but it was a...good...nightmare. wow. survival dream. ultimate fucking survival dreams with characters that ought to be in a badass movie. in fact, the entire dream was incredibly cinematic. I remember almost every detail.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

too scared to sleep too fucking scared to sleep too absolutely fucking terrified to sleep

I can't take facing my death one more time. It ruins my waking day. I've never been able to accept it in any dream thus far. Will I ever? Will the last emotion I ever feel be terror?

Oh. my. Fuck

the end of the world was nigh we had to beat out the wooden deck so we could hide under in the murkiness hannah went to the salon and no one was there so she cut her own hair there were weird things happening with the sky, the fire, I REFUSED to believe it was ending and I kept asking Gabe and Christian if they believed it and they said yes. I asked why and they said that there was nothing else to explain the weird things that has happened; also, people around the world had grown unresponsive aka we couldn't contact them so they must have been dead, right? there was the girl and she was married to the leader and she was so so so evil but I loved her, she was smart. she fucked the leader's dad and he was SO ANGRY. she had something you put on your phone that could end all communication with everyone and she put it on my phone and made me press it so everyone thought I was the malicious one here. I decided that I wanted to live through my death, stay awake and active through every second of it, and I asked Christian and Gabe if they wanted to as well, but no, they wanted to hide under the deck in the murkiness with everyone else to talk. why? so I made plans to leave with two gay guys who wanted to do the same thing, and I had a beautiful thought about the earth destroying humans that I bet this exact fucking thing has happened before and I looked up at the sky and it was so strange and beautiful. my dad and brother were dead and I said that I would say goodbye to my mom but then I was leaving, I did NOT BELIEVE the world was really going to end. Gabe said that if I stayed awake through it then it would probably be instant death and my eyes would just shut. I figured that if that was the case, then I wouldn't know any better, so I started to leave and...

BAM

I'm in a car. My little brother is in the back seat. There is snow outside and sticking on the window and my mom says in her soothing voice "...sheldon, did you know that in the heart of the U.S. there is a twinkling little town. It's in Texas, and it's called America..."

Fraternity. Chocolate Fraternity.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Let's get the boring stuff out of the way.

My mom was pregnant, and her belly was stretched and translucent and I could see the baby quite clearly; it was a girl. Later she was born and was named Nathalia. I think. Something between Nadia and Natasha, so we'll go with Nathalia.

What happened just before she was born is what's important.

DMT
it was in little contact lense-shaped bowls, and it was a liquid that you just drank.
As I lay down, I felt an immediate rush forward into space, like my body was a freight train or spaceship. It was an intense buzz, and it felt so physically real...more real than any of my lucid dreams have been.

Next I remember smiling, embracing everything, not scared at all like I usually am.
There was a black screen, and this weird white simple-line-drawn cartoon guy was moving across it like one of those tiny flipbooks.
He was important; he was showing me something.

I got up then (not really, but I imagined myself getting up...within the dream...this is all getting a little meta) and went to an imagined mirror, and saw myself, and decided to look into my eyes. I got as close as possible, and some weird thin ray of light directed my line of sight and I looked into myself, and suddenly I lost all sense of identity; the mirror-me became me, and the real me became the mirror, and what I saw when I looked into those pupils was something I will never, ever be able to describe in human terms.


Monday, November 19, 2012

my writing is always something only I can understand, and I'm okay with that

there's beauty in the mystery

right?

I sit under the willow
beside the lake
and try to think

But as I smoke this cigarette
my mind is blank
This feigned madness
has become taxing
in more ways than one

The lake does glimmer
and so imparts
a sense of beauty
that is a mere illusion
The complexes
and their shoddy lights
can be seen on either side
and I try to determine
which is real

A biker circles
this glass mirror
or so it seems

And as I dive, dive, dive
toward my tromp l’oeil
he looks ahead

They talk of swimming
but they’ll never see
my deceived dip
the way I did

Two walkers pass
and I cough,
oh, I do cough
and they must not think I see
or hear
them as they mention me

That tree may outlive me
but I left my mark
as it left its
in these immortal words

I need to augment my life
with more of these
momenta

Friday, November 16, 2012

Trying to write
is like trying to access your soul
which you may think is easy
because you Know Better
but you don't.

Everything is something different
every day
and I don't know how to reconcile that
but I know that it's a matter of
(I don't know how to finish this sentence, because it's bullshit)

I'm starting to realize
that I couldn't care less
how stupid you think I am
because I think you're stupid

You made me who I am
and I regret it
and often wish you were dead
and fantasize about your death
but that's not right

You're not who you think you are
I'm tired of the hinting
and double entendre
(which is a phrase I didn't learn
On My Own
but rather from
a terrible television show
as I've mentioned before)

I want you to know
That the hate that I feel
is something I'm working on

Can I just be honest?
I'm a shell
a fucking
shell

Okay?

Thursday, November 15, 2012

two nights ago

penn badgley (weird)
the attraction that never came to fruition
the spaceship. a shimmering silver ball
they lost us. it was malicious. we hurdled into space with no way to get back,
an endless journey into nothingness
the boy was scared. (who was he?)
sofia
sofia with her boyish blonde hair, an ominous presence in every scene
like at the graveyard
the gang. they weren't good.
sofia stood and watched.

last night's...will have to come back to me. i've lost all of it, but it will come back, i'm sure

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

this one was weird

I'm not at all unfamiliar with dreams of him. He is mine, I know I'll meet him someday; he looks the same every time.
I HAD to get pregnant; I can't remember why. It had something to do with four prisoners and some scheme, some escape? (this part was VERY elaborate and amazing and important, but I cannot remember, unfortunately. I think that we had to kill the prisoners, at least)

and when I had him, I cried. not a good cry. a cry for my youth and for the life i had envisioned for myself.

and so, I sought to give him away. I DID give him away. and with that, I also cried, because I knew HE WAS MINE and I have dreamed about him so many times and giving him away meant never loving another as much as him.

it also scares me because I lose him or he gets taken or I give him away every time

i remember asking "what if my next one is defective? what if there's something wrong with it? he was PERFECT"

I also know that I gave him away because He wouldn't want him. he would leave me if i didn't.

that then dissolved, though it kept the same setting, and became one of my mother

she needed some sort of transplant--a heart transplant, I think, but it became a full-body transplant. there was a hospital and a machine, and the machine bore the image of her, and she was able to talk to me through it although the transplant was not complete

i kept guessing the next thing she was going to say, which somehow was a sort of test to make sure it really was her. it was far more surreal than i could ever explain in words (at least English words, which sound so plain and this was so. not. plain.)

the transplant must have been complete because later she came to me in a completely different form, but I recognized her as "mom."

I tried to get pregnant again, but it ended before I could witness the fruits of my efforts.

there was a lake, and a house, and so many people...but all of that is gone.

Monday, November 12, 2012

last night's is mostly gone

just remnants left

Dylan (the major theme)
the pool (black water)
the party
my dress (solid black along my sides, but completely see-through everywhere else. my ass and tits were there for everyone to see, and it felt amazing rather than embarrassing or shameful or invasive)
Iowa, the asian boy who Dylan became as time passed
the quiz

that's all, I think.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Okay, so...the night before last's

My dad died, and that's really all I remember now, thought yesterday I know I remembered far more than that. I sobbed and sobbed but didn't actually feel the sadness that I would feel in waking life. I wonder if I can feel sadness in dreams? I'll watch out for it.

Last night...
there was taking a hit of a spliff and having a strange, instant high. I walked around and up a small hill and looked at the trees and the school. It felt really great. But it was also very, very different from a high in "real" life.

there was also a table. a dinner table. mom, dad, sheldon. eating food and deciding what to choose for the hanging television above us. I said The Skin I Live In, which my mother had seen. She was horrified; it was the most evil movie she had ever seen, she said, and she turned it off less than halfway through. I started to defend it, saying it was "Grossly disturbing" (a good thing) and "really well done," but when the dismay spread across their faces I decided to pretend that I was confused, that I was actually thinking of The Thin Red Line, not The Skin I Live In.

at the same dinner but what felt years later, I called my dad out on his racism. I screamed at him, I said "fucking" for the first time.

the next part can only be described in fragments of thoughts.
the controller, the two prongs, held up to our eyes, the intense shock...it wasn't as bad as you anticipated when they held it up to your eyes

regular school-like things. gabe missed a quiz. i was failing my classes. who cares

needed to use the shower but the girls were tanning (???)

had to say goodbye...there was a baby (whose?)...goodbye felt bad.

the end.

Friday, November 9, 2012

We'll start with last night. Better ones have been had, but I want to start fresh.

I remember leaving him. I had a real good reason I'm sure. But the thing I most remember was the relief I felt. The excitement; I could do anything. A wave of possibilities passed over me, and I smiled.

We were...in the room. With the couches. They became them; somehow. It didn't last forever. We just avoided them until they were done. Their faces were the worst. Skeletal and rotting. But Christian turned and...we couldn't wait. I shoved a wooden spoon through his face. Yeah.

PCP. A purple ring...she licked it. Meth. PCP. Meth.

and, finally

death.