Conduit, Dreams, Imogene, Kumina Queen

Boy am I glad to be at work today, and I'm not joking! Last night our plumbing clogged, and this event, possibly due to the heavy rains, coincided with me acquiring a vicious case of diarrhea! The horror followed me on my commute this morning, as the stalled A train entered a race against the ticking clock of my stomach pains. Do I have Cholera? Only time can tell.

My dreams last night also featured feces, although that is one of my reoccurring dreams and possibly not directly related to the bathroom situation. Before I continue, let me add that there is a gigantic hole in the bathroom wall and there are roaches, etc., coming out of it, one by one. The wall is severely damaged due to leaking pipes; recently I tapped the wall and it caved in. Disgusting! My landlord deserves to be in jail, and I told him that. I also told him his behavior was ungodly, spending all his time in Israel praying while neglecting his responsibilities to his tenants. Asshole! Anyways.... in one part of last night's dreams, little poops were falling out of me as I was walking in a public place. I realized I was shitting my pants, and so I located the public restroom. However, as in all of my feces dreams, there was no privacy or cleanliness to be had. There was a line in the bathroom, and then the door of my stall would not stay closed. I was trying to handle my business discreetly but was highly unsuccessful.

Oh! Let me add... as far as Wednesday night's nightmare goes, starring my father as attacker, I forgot to mention the most sickening part. After the assault, my mother french kissed my dad. Michelle asked, "Why is that the worst part?" Because obviously... it not only implicates her complicity in the crime and failure to protect my sister, but she was obviously aroused, which is unacceptable in every way!

Back to last night's dream. Let me start by giving a little background information... When I was 12 years old or so, I liked this boy named Curtis, who was the god brother of my best friend. Curtis is biracial and has piercing light blue eyes, the epitome of evil. At the time, he lived in a home for problematic youth. We used to meet in the cemetery near the home, and sometimes kiss. Once I kissed him in the alley behind my house, and he shoved his whole, giant, revolting tongue down my mouth while grabbing my ass with both hands through the rips and holes in my jean shorts. I was totally repulsed. Also, in my childhood bedroom, one of the walls faced the intersection of 38th and 10th avenue, and had four windows looking out down the ave. Several boys from the neighborhood had a rude habit of climbing the side of my house and onto the roof, to talk to me through the window. I thought it was flattering, but my father was angry and scared. One time, on the phone, Curtis told me that he and some friends had beat up a skin head. They had arranged his face against a sidewalk curb, with the mouth open and teeth to the concrete, and stomped on his head. I found that image unsettling, but I thought Curtis had a nice voice. I don't know what happened to him, besides having about five children as his teen years progressed. Anyways, in my dream, I was in my old room and Curtis came to my window. I was happy to see him. I asked him how he had been doing. He had a couple other boys with him, and suddenly, I realized that they were there to rob me. He started trying to break the screen. I called for help, and some ninjas appeared. They fought off the boys, and I tried to scream, but couldn't. Once the ninjas had kicked and pushed them off the roof, I looked out and saw Curtis' head and shoulders sitting there on the roof, sans body. The head was still alive, but the severed body was on the lawn below. I was happy to see it, and I spit on him.

In another part of the dream, I was in a giant shoe store / library. I needed shoes because I had to drive Michelle's father's car, and my feet couldn't reach the gas and breaks... so I wanted platform shoes. It was an emergency, because I was trying to finish this project for her family. I was building a giant structure out of pasta and covered with sauce, and it was very important. I didn't want to annoy or upset her mother. They only made the platform shoes in kids' sizes, and a salesperson tried to sell me some Anne Klein ladies slippers instead, which were too expensive and ugly. Then the store became a library. I was in a private reading room, and suddenly, I saw a two little girls playing, one blond and one brunette. The blond came over and talked to me. I wondered if she was a ghost, and then, as I was holding her in my arms, I looked down and saw the white/gray corpse of a dead baby. I was extremely upset and wanted to talk to Michelle about it... she was busy. We were fighting. It had to do with the structure, the pasta, her family, I don't know....

AAh, there was so much more to the dream, but it's gone. Dreams are like that. I only have access to the spiritual world in dreams. Daytime is 'do this' and 'do that' and 'call the plumber.' You know, despite access to the toilet, I am not actually happy to be at work. I'm really pissed. My stomach keeps growling.

What's the use, Zeus?

We can't help what we dream, right? I apologize in advance to the actors in this dream, who did not choose to star in the following scenario. I was with my family. All of a sudden, my dad lept onto my sister in a fit of rage. She did something to piss him off. We were all kind of shocked, but it turned to horror as his wrath continued unabated. I heard and saw a time clock ticking away the seconds that it lasted. He was torturing her. Her had a hose and was putting his thumb over it so that the water came out really hard and right against her neck or face. I could tell that it hurt a lot and that my sister was really scared. The worst part is, she was struggling and calling out, "no no no," and my dad was saying "Yes Yes Yes" in a sexual way, like a rape. I said, "Say goodbye to Lora (my sister)." I knew that my dad could never be forgiven after such a crime. It was far too extreme, inflicted on her for far too long, and it was sexual, which was the worst part. I woke up saying no.

The Moon is so Hollow

I can't sleep tonight. Michelle is passed out and snoring lightly. Sweetly. Once she was asleep, I got close to her. We have barely touched or spoken since last Thursday. Friday, she started using again. Can I talk about this here? I have no idea if anyone reads this. I hope only strangers read it. Michelle and I had a horrible date at Rachel's tonight. She expressed strong disappointment over the fact that it wasn't a nice or "romantic" time. I remained calm. I have remained calm, for the most part, since Friday. Last summer, I could barely cope because I didn't understand addiction. Tonight, I am okay, and I believe that she will be okay too. I married a sick little lady. I almost lost my cool at dinner. I started laughing, not because I was happy, but because she was being so ridiculous, really trying to fight with me, and swearing to god that she was sober while nodding off into her enchilada. It was pathetic. I refused to engage on all levels because I could see that it was pointless. She wanted me to agree that she was "just tired.

the mysterious mind

last night i dreamed about someone from my past where i was at their house with my family, on a vacation or something, stopping by. this person's mother is not alive, but in my dream her mother answered the door and invited us in. i went up to the person's room and was looking around. i felt they way you do when you want to run into someone so badly and you're so excited but nervous. at one point this person returned and we looked at each other close up for a second. then i was wearing these platform socks/slippers with funny multi-colored toes, which made her mom laugh. then my family was leaving and this person was playing a show across the street, down the block, but i knew i wasn't going. i was going with my family.

friendship in my world

I joined facebook. At first it was a lot of fun. Now everything has slowed down, I reconnected with a bunch of folks from my past, no one is available to chat, and it's boring. Plus so many people have their profiles on private, you can't do any research. BORING. I miss my friend Gaige, even though sometimes she really makes me mad. We haven't spoken in a long time now. I miss chatting with her while I'm at work though and hearing about her life. I suppose our argument is a matter of pride. Mine. GOD MY JOB IS DRIVING ME INSANE TODAY. It's mad busy. And I have cramps. I just wanna get the fuck out of here, go home and lay down. Finally, the phone stopped ringing. Thanksgiving is coming up and millions of fat Americans can't wait to celebrate gluttony, a great American value. I'm in one of those moods where people disgust me. Sometimes everyone has a beautiful glow. Other days, such as this one, they are weak, greedy, and pathetic. Like people in the elevator. I just hate listening to their fake/work chat. Why the fuck do people talk about their jobs in the elevator? Can't it wait till you arrive in your office? Also, why do people squeeze into an elevator that's already full? Nobody likes being packed in like sardines. Unless you're late for work, there's just no excuse for that. I've also noticed that the majority of people are really boring. Naturally I surround myself with people that I find interesting, but I would rather be alone than talk to average, boring, married, nice people. Then again, my sister is married and has a baby now, and I don't think she's boring or that her life is boring. In fact, I'm in love with her baby. I guess it's a matter of people being boring to me when I don't know them. Most people are more interesting when you get to know them, right? Wrong. Hey, I really don't know. I know that I'm bored by happiness. I'm bored by self-pitying types too though. Just why can't people say something new and original? Why do they have to say something that anyone could have said? I'm not saying that I'm the most original in the world. I have to participate in certain social niceties such as, "how are you" "I'm fine" etc. I just wish everyone would shut up. Including myself. No one knows anything and all this conversation is meaningless noise. I'd rather fuck. jk :) Well, whatever. It sucks when you miss and love someone but you know they are a jerk and don't deserve your friendship.

NYC Teaching Fellows: a good program?

I was in the NYC Teaching Fellows program for about two and a half months. I quit while I was working as an assistant teacher at a school in Co-op city during summer school. I just became overwhelmed and couldn't manage the stress. So, I admire people that can handle it. I've noticed that it is not the perfectionists who are successful in the program, but those that are more flexible and simply don't quit no matter how unprepared, ignorant or scared they are. I can't say it's a bad program.

(I erased the rest of this post where I started bitching about the annoying teaching fellows in my graduate classes at Hunter. It was mean spirited. They have good intentions. Sometimes, "intentions" aren't enough and excellence is required, but it's not my business to worry about all the students with bad teachers).

No Sense

I listened to the song, NO Sense on repeat today. It's so beautiful. It wasn't making me sad either, just thrilled at the way Cat Power chooses words and melody lines. She's my fav. I can't sleep though, because the damn song is in my head. But I kind of feel like playing it right now.

Why do I write online? Because I don't know which will last longer, the words I put here or in a notebook. It's always been my dream or obsession, to be a "writer." The internet is my dream come true.