March 28, 2006
uh: "writing the body"
This afternoon brought a nightmare: a fleshy, kidney shaped bulge tore from my inner ear, dangled above my shoulder by a ropey ligament. A twisted, low-budget asymmetrical jewelry, bumpy to the touch like the outer edges of a quater or chapped lips after a night of screaming and surprisingly dry, a bunched bikini top left to desiccate on stone at low tide. My ears were never pierced, but no matter, this cascaded from the inside, contracting in the ventilated air of the auditorium like knobby, quivering hopscotch legs at the onset of spring. The paramedic was a girl my age, half back, half white, her hair all tight, slick curls. Difficult to tell whether it was my lengthy and hormonal indecision over what music to bring with me to the hospital (I'm going in for ear surgery! I want to immerge to something good! These could be the last songs I ever hear with both ears!!) or her revulsion at my indefinable appendage that eventually lead to the ligament dropping from my body altogether. We were still debating whether it was possible to reattach the tissue, blood all over the lint clinging to upholstered seats, when I woke. I spent the rest of my waking day like a rumor spreading through a mesh hall, hurting my pointer nail well, this is real time.
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Anyway: SERIOUSLY DISTURBED AT MY SUBCONSCIOUS OVER HERE. I forgot to mention that the OTHER affliction was that there was a CHIP IN MY EAR and I needed to REMOVE IT because it WOULDN'T STOP PLAYING MUSIC. Oh good chirst motherfucker. Funny, but sad.
Posted by caroline at March 28, 2006 2:24 AMDreams can be unbelievably unsettling, can't they? I had a real doozie once I managed to parse into a short story, it was interesting. But I wrote the story at 3:30 AM directly subsequent to the dream - 'cos I was NOT going back to sleep.
Posted by: Chris at March 28, 2006 10:24 AMThen there was this one - wrote it down at the time.
dreamed about sitting in a lawn chair watching the entrance to Ring Road at UVic... i had to wait for a float plane to get me something very specific from Seattle for something yucky i had to do - i don't remember. anyways it was all fucked up, cause i was facing south and the float plane flew over ascending towards the west.
later i sliced up an adversary with a legendary sword and my own sword (not actually mine... just an accoutrement of the dream-character) basically making sashimi. he was talking to me the whole time - didn't seem to need any muscles or larynx, i was just talking to his lips and a bit of tongue with nothing behind. eventually i fed him a bit of himself, which he took for regular sashimi. felt kinda bad about that. then i hid his lips up in some dusty eaves.
also a guinea pig had his own roller coaster. again, at UVic. man, grad pranks in the dream world are getting pretty retarded. he looked like he was having fun, but who can tell.
Posted by: Chris at March 28, 2006 10:33 AMYou're like, the Elephant Man, or something.
And speaking of which, another literary/theatrical recommendation for you: "Dear Boss," a play about Jack the Ripper -- with puppets, man! PUPPETS!!! (...and if you don't take the Freemasons' word for it, who you gonna trust? http://freemasonrywatch.org/dear_boss.html)
And as per you earlier question, much of what went on in high school gave me irreparable sexual dysfunctions. Envisioning Mr Leong in a pink ballgown... Leaving love notes to Mr Bobie... Mr Gough and his Broom-Closet-of-Wank... Mr Sting and his Buddhist Buddies (one of whom works at Staples now)... Ear appendages are so the least of my problems.
Chris:
is that the best you got? Seriously. Bring it
Posted by: caroline at March 29, 2006 1:33 AMed,
THE CALGARY SUN??!!?? Oh. Fuck. I seriously thought it was a brilliant parody of the most ridiculously vague and inept review ever. Way to prove me wrong, Calgary Sun. Many cheers. Wow. I shouldn't have spent all that energy boycotting you; I was wrong. And I'm sorry. Think of all the laughs I've missed out on, thus far.
Mr. Leong! You've just made me realize the reason why I feel all funny inside every time I look at a periodic table. I don't even know, ed. I don't even know. The image is sort of taking over my brain, momentarily. Foolish me and my whimsies.
ps,
Mr Sting and his Buddhist Buddies!
Are Love.
Posted by: caroline at March 29, 2006 1:41 AMHa ha. This here,
http://www.davidbowie.com/users/puritycontrol/bekindly.html
is a metafiction, but it is descended from the rather nasty dream it describes. Besides that, I am handicapped by the fact that I really don't dream that much... so you may have a shut-out with that ear thing. That's quite something.
Posted by: Chris at March 30, 2006 2:58 AMChris,
I don't even know what to say. That kept me seriously entertained for its duration. Pretty hard to find a urinal in a waking nightmare. has to be one of the better lines I've heard in this go round. I hope you're going to do something with this piece. I'm going to push for a revision--it would be worth it. Anyway, way to bring it. Kudos. A meta voice peice, wonderful.
Posted by: caroline at March 30, 2006 2:45 PMI'm glad you liked it. If you ever have the time I'd love some notes. Anyways no pressure. I write better voice when I'm cranky, who knows why.
Posted by: Chris at March 30, 2006 4:20 PM