Thursday, December 30, 2004

" the '80,000 and rising' mental break: a dream and a prose distraction "

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gotta take a break.

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dream:

i am walking up the street that is sloping downwards. it is solano avenue and the shops are open; a warm blood-orange inviting light dances out from the open doors.

the day has become an eastbay-wintry-gray. there are her friends sitting and drinking hot chocolate which steams like a small billowing volcano on a saucer.

mariel is in the bakery with her co-workers, and they know i see them; the pastries are being set in front of the counter, and the baguettes look fresh and croustillant.

to the left, someone. an anonymous blur of a figure.

big is sitting next to me and we comment on what a strange light the sky is making. the cold blue-gray making it that much colder.

i am talking to my mom on a cell phone, telling her not to worry. "i'm doing fine, i'll call you later...okay...okay...yes?...no...bye. byeeee" she hangs up and it turns into a lead brick.

i talk to myself out loud and remind myself of the strange comicbook sale that dylan and i have recently sojourned from. i can't remember where he disappeared off to, but upon reflection, remember that this is completely normal.

------ is running across the street from my left towards my right, and the world goes fisheye on me. i see her friends giving me the sign to mess with her exercise routine in a friendly manner; their teacups multiplied and stacked teetering and full.

i yell to ------, "ruuuunnnn!" and she pauses in mid jaunt and comes to a leaning-on-one-leg standstill, before turning a brash pivot around and coming after me. she always knows my voice.

her rose-apple cheeks are flushed and her hair tied back; a few strands matted across her forehead. she is smiling, and i play along.

prose disguised:

[ a jab in the jaw ]

- i feel my entire face loosen and float to the far right, as her clenched fist, bold and solid with reasoning, travels the width of my noggin'. her hand feels like a cartoon ton.

- i can see her perfectly flawed hands in all of their radiant brown beauty. thoughts come of those strange conversations we had, when i licked the tips of her fingernails and she loved me.

- i can see the place we're standing in has gone all crooked and slack. i recall the archaeology of our relationship, the "i know it is over," over and over again, until there's nothing left in place of my collected memories but the vintage of her kiss.

- love KO'ed me with a ham-fisted blow to the skull. with my useless body splayed out on the ground like a busted marionette, i blacked out smiling and defeated.

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