The Beckson

            I've started having dreams again. I believe this is because I keep a dream journal. The moment I wake up, I write down whatever remnants are left in my head--be they a description, a summary, a dialogue, etc. And I mean whatever is left in my head. It's not your quintessential dream journal, but everything I read hours later is surprisingly intelligible.

            ...more or less:

Utah has been deemed dandy. The second dandiest state in the nation. 

(First recorded)

______________________________

From sponges to cruises to concrete steadied flags. 

(First lucid dream. It was a virtual reality game. I played it over and over again and woke up exhausted.)

______________________________

I slowly took apart his art piece, aptly named, "What the hell is that thing."

______________________________

"Birth your baby into the arms that will cradle it for the rest of it's infant years! The Baby Holder! WARNING: RECALL."

______________________________

I love fruit. I always have. But there's no way I'm getting on that death trap. 

______________________________

If a dollar bill has 100 calories, will a 5 or 10 dollar bill have the same, or 5 or 10 times more?

______________________________

It was a wonder that a joy so young could produce such horror.

______________________________

I would not draw on a wall if it possessed at all the small perfections of it's genre.

______________________________

Granted, I'm never in a private place, but I can always manage to find some peace and quiet wherever I am. Damn it all... I hate minimun wage.

______________________________

The swearing ceased and we were finally able to get some sleep, curled in blankets that Justin made. As sure as those bones in the crawlspace were my father's, we saw that cemetery flash before our vision. This wasn't our home. This reality we've seemed to trap ourselves in was honing in on every nightmare we could imagine. If only my sister would answer the phone, I may be able to find a constant that would snap us out of it. I've never been so horrified in my life from the things I've seen tonight, and I just want my family back.

            

            That last one was from a few days ago. It's the longest snippet I have recorded and came from the most terrifying dream I've ever had. Hands down. I'd never be able to go to sleep if it weren't for the fact that the aforementioned Justin was a friendly mummy. That made afghans for us. For which he claimed my mother knowingly took credit.

            He made things a little whimsical.

-rae

Mind over Matter doesn't apply

It became surreal from the moment I realized I wasn't going to sleep tonight. When I realized that yesterday and tomorrow were the same.

I'm wearing different things today. Different boots, different jeans, different jewelry. What I'm not wearing is a coat. If I were poetic, I'd say that I didn't wear a coat to school because I need to feel the cold. To know that this was my body and that it exists. My red skin would be proof.

In literature, we're discussing Vanity with a capital 'v' and learning about how it can be a good thing. A gift from God, even.

God.

Vanity.

I'm surprised by how tired I'm not. Every single one of my senses seems overstimulated. I'm not spacing out consistently, but when I do, it's for a good chunk of time. I can't remember where time goes.

Every movement is graceful.

I'm waiting for my class to end so I can go back. I don't know why. Maybe because I don't know what else to do or maybe because I'll remember that it's a dream and move on. After all, I have no proof. When I get there, I keep looking for some anyway.

There are people here, and that makes me uncomfortable. Almost self-conscious. I sit down on the couch facing the mountains and find solace in the fact they're there. I can see them. But I close my eyes, and then they're gone. A new city could be there now, or a tsunami. Blackness. I open my eyes and they exist again.

I lean forward and squeeze my head, trying to keep any more thoughts from getting in because it's too crowded in here, and I see something on the ground. My breath hovers for a moment before I reach down and take it and then look around for someone to laugh with me. The room is getting darker, and the people are disappearing. They aren't here anymore. I can't hear them, I won't see them. Out of sight, out of mind.

I feel the earring in my hand. This is not a dream.

I could be using the stairs, but I'm taking the elevator instead even though I have to wait for a long time. I hear it coming slowly from the floors below, making stops on the way. I close my eyes and run the earring over my lips. The elevator reaches the fourth floor.

And there's no telling what's behind the doors.

I open my eyes--

-rae