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03.07.2002 - 9:46 a.m.

I dreamed last night that I was going to die. The details have already faded, all I can remember is that somehow I knew I was seconds away from death.

I didn't know how it would happen.

Like a 747 pitching sickenly; hundreds of screaming yellow oxygen masks dropping and jangling, batted at with frantic hands; a whistling shriek of pressure loss; a yawning roll that sends carry-on luggage exploding out from cabinets and tumbling through the air.

Like a tentative step at 14,000 ft; a delicate shift of weight that results in a gunshot crack; an earsplitting roar of snow and ice, the ground opening up to an otherworldly blue ice mouth fading to black; a dropped iceaxe; a boneless, flailing fall.

Like a rusty station wagon screeching around a corner, a barrel suddenly poking out its cold steel eye; a punching bag blow to the chest that spins you sideways; a weak, scrabbling crawl on your hands and knees; a perfect spreading red circle.

Just that it was going to.

I'm not religious. If you wondered. I don't subscribe to any doctrine, nor do I think of myself as being spiritual in any particular sense. Let me say this - I have been open minded, but have never believed.

So in my dream I did not have serene thoughts about heaven (or anxious thoughts of devils, fire). I remember thinking, well, now I'll finally know. I remember thinking, I didn't have enough time. I remember thinking, I hope it doesn't hurt.

And that's that, there was no epiphany and no remembered death - for surely it would result in an actual death, isn't that what they say about dreams? I think, if anything, I dreamed that to remind myself that life is short. Time to stop feeling sorry for myself, time to drop the poor-me-I-am-worthless-without-a-job routine.

Or, maybe it means that on my way to meet Peaches, Feng, and Haze for lunch today I will be mowed down by an eighteen-wheeler.

You never know.

go back ::: forward

recent bleating:

03.06.2002 - It's like diarrhea…or maybe it's like something less disgusting than that
2002-03-05 - I'm always the dork wildly pinwheeling their arms and weaving like a sorority girl at Mardis Gras.
2002-03-04 - By nothing more than a new moment, different from the last.

ARTIFACT: a grocery receipt from a few days back. I'm all chapped off cause I just noticed the clerk, who didn't ID me for the beer I bought, listed my birthdate as June 2, 1964. The hell? Do I look 38? Or is that date just some sort of default "looks old enough to me" key?

PS. All the yogurts and puddings I bought - they're for my performance art project.






PPS. Just kidding.

0 comments so far.

I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004

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