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Quickdream: Visitors

I had a dream this morning that a friend visited my apartment with his little girl. He ended up playing video games and ignoring his daughter, so I had to keep her out of trouble. She was a cute, chubby toddler. Unbeknownst to me until they visited, I had a kid, too. He was her age, but his face was a dark, empty space, and I couldn’t look directly look at him. He kept hurting her in little ways, like tangling a band in her hair so her hair was pulled and she was crying. Her face in pain was very clear, and once I untangled the knot, her face immediately alit in a smile and she ran off to play. And my kid followed her.

Missus Gaia Always Clutches At Me

Missus Gaia always clutches at me. Even when I leap with great vigor in the sunshine, the space between my feet and her skin is less than the gasp of a frightened infant. I fall back down. With persistence, she lulls me into a stoop, and I watch the constellations and imagine I am Orion, removed and too haughty for her base embrace. She sings to me more, and I am oblivious to the feel of Time sliding over me. Why are my bones so heavy? I lie down, and even this pitted rock is an easing caress, warm despite that all is ice. I look up, trying to find Orion, but he has spun away. I am too impatient for his return; my mind is perforated cloth. She offers another lullaby, verses swaying over a secret never even revealed in her womb, and I sink into her, my eventual dissolution a million seeds for minute futures invisible to me.

The Microscope Shows Us That Zuckerberg is Made of Likes – based on a conversation with my brother Zach.

In case you can’t tell by reading this, it is naught but nonsense. NONSENSE.

The Microscope Shows Us That Zuckerberg is Made of Likes – based on a conversation with my brother Zach.

I think Zuckerberg is made of Likes.
As my brother suggested, if you examine him closely with a microscope, you will see he is composed of Likes. But not just Likes, they are held together by distraction. How can distraction hold anything together? Trust me, Likes and distraction form a powerful bond.
If he were to suddenly explode, a trillion trillion Likes would blast everywhere, sink into the ground like magic beans, which would grow despair trees. And these trees would produce absolutely delicious looking fruit. But when you bite into one, it will turn to vinegar dust in your mouth.
But people will still Like the trees and Zuckerberg’s body, this time supermassive, will form again from those Likes and he’ll drift in space, eating galaxies and stars while he smiles and shits out infinite versions of hell.


Seven sentences.

Seven sentences for creative exercise. These vocabulary words are from a 7th grade list.

1. Abnormal

Willy laughed when Sister Flowerpot said his fireball poops were abnormal, when she said they were ruining the school pipes and burning the plumbers; Willy laughed and did not stop.

2. Browse

It took Magdalene 40 days to browse through the menu before she finally made a choice, yet by then her starving girlfriends had eaten everything but her head, and she was angry she had no room for dessert.

3. Counterfeit

Even for a crushing professional like Boomsquat, distinguishing the counterfeit screams from the real ones was not always easy, so he merely bit down on them a little harder to discover the genuine agony.

4. Dismantle

They dismantled the Sun, and found only darkness in all of its parts.

5. Fruitless

Passage through the raven canal proved fruitless, as the troop lost most of their members to scrabblers in the gutters, and when they approached what was thought to be the exit, it was naught but a blue hum that filled their ears and eyes until no space was left.

6. Geography

The geography of his happiness contained islands which he continually forgot, yet each time he landed on one of these hidden spots, gratitude surged up within his chest, and he wept, and seeing his world through these tears transformed him once again.

7. Hospitable

Gary didn’t think the villagers were being very hospitable when they ripped off his clothes, dressed him in a bridal gown, tied him to the stone barricade, and said he was the new bride of the Fen Wyrm.

Quickdream: Fake Bowling in Garage, Women Pretending To Be Scared


Fake Bowling in Garage, Women Pretending To Be Scared

I had this funny dream this morning. A writer invited hundreds of women to go fake bowling in his garage. He invited me, too. The game was very complicated, with pizza boxes and no room for bowling lanes because the garage was so packed. Nobody understood what the hell was going on. Somehow he convinced the women to strip to their underwear. He opened the huge garage door and persuaded the women that to end the game they had to run out of the garage screaming into the neighborhood. They all did, and the guy stood watching them laughing. I tried to understand in the dream what he was trying to accomplish, and just couldn’t fathom what it was.
And I semi-woke up thinking maybe he was trying to convince his neighborhood that he was a lady’s man who scared ladies, and how that only canceled itself out. And it hurt my head.

Dream Over

If I Could Draw and Animate . . .

An animated cartoon idea: a crudely drawn stick figure man is walking. He’s whistling. His mouth is just open space between the top and bottom of his head. He passes a man who is being eaten by lions. The man screams, “Help!”, but he says “Not my job.” Then he walks by a woman who got hit by a bus and is laying in the road. He says “Not my job.” Then he passes a man who is being attacked by a bear with a chainsaw. He says “Not my job.” Then he passes a McDonald’s with a Now Hiring sign in the window. He says, “Not my job.” Then he walks away and it’s over. Yay.

Marchdream 2016 - A Dream About My Departed Father

Dream March 2016

My father passed away January 3, 2016.

In the dream, I was with my Dad at a boisterous outdoor party. My mother had passed in 2008, and my Dad had come to this party with a new girlfriend. I knew the young woman from school; she was much younger than he, and in the dream I was worried about this. She seemed so damned fickle and likely to hurt him.
The three of us stood in a small cluster away from the roiling crowd of the party. She held my Dad’s hand in loose fingers and gazed away from him toward the revelry. Finally, she released his hand and ran to the cluster.
Dad followed her, and I stood transfixed as they had an argument. Dad shook his head slowly and solemnly left her side and returned to me. The girl vanished into the boil of people. Dad looked at the ground; the pain in his face was apparent, but he didn’t let it transform him. It hurt my chest to see him like that.
“She broke it off,” he said.
“I’m sorry, Dad,”
I embraced him, and he hugged me back as fiercely as he ever had. He then slowly walked up the hill to our right, at the top of which was an arch. It was minutes later as he approached the arch that I knew he was going to die. I hurried after him, determined to be there with him, but when I passed under the arch, he was lying still on his back in a great hall. Still.
I somehow knew that this was a dream, and that I might be able to rewind events.
So I did.
We were standing again by the crowd, but it had shrunken, and was populated only by immediate family members. Everyone looked to Dad. The young woman was gone.
The pained expression from before was gone. I hugged my Dad and told him, “I love you so much.”
He turned to walk up the hill.
Looking at my family, I said, “He’s going to rest there, but we have a chance to be with him.” But when I pivoted to follow my Dad, he was already under the arch. Everyone raced up the hill, but we found him as I had before, still and peaceful.

Dream Over

Cocaine Hummingbird Eyes

Cocaine hummingbird eyes
Nibbling ten thousand glances
Each a fragment reflection of nothing
With minuscule edges so quietly sharp
Bleeding out the brain in legion lullaby