2005

pdt

wed
jun
22

As the (Dream ends) a quiet voice says, as from an actor delivering a line in a play, "I don't see life as a gurgling, raging thing to share with anybody," and since I'm already awake, get up, walk across the room, and write it in my writer's notebook.

Well, I might as well remember the rest of the dream, and lying back down, see that on the inside, me, the actor, is holding a piece of pound cake, a vivid amber, crusted piece of pound cake no one else can see. Still guarding it from sight, I drive around the block and find myself entering the (Dream again) We're driving, the two of us, though I don't know her name now, or maybe never did, and in the blackness, trying to find a place to park, drive off a cliff.

"This is as good a place as any," one of us says at the bottom of the black cliff, and we leave the car there, in the invisible parking lot.

We're searching for someone, maybe a long, lost love ... or maybe a relative ... even a child who has long since grown up ... it's not clear, though through a series of phone calls, one of us finds ourselves in someone else's house, as an invisible observer, really, as another actor picks up the phone and says, "Yes, she's here."

From our invisible vantage we see a person come into the house, accompanied by other people, and approach the telephone. (Fin)

am
5:10

Lying in bed, I feel runs of relaxation coursing their way up through the muscles around my skull, and on the inside a whisper voice says, "//. /.//.../. /. /./ /.. // .../ ./ ./. /. I love you so much! / / ./... //./. ..// ./ ./ ./ .. // // ../ /," which is good enough for me.

I don't see any point lying around sleeping all day.

5:37