dream, Aug 8
I had traveled with a young woman to be her assistant
I was employed by her mother
part of her task was to make a book for her about a man’s life
he was a bit like Langstan Hughes
or James Baldwin
rolled together
(inspired by Thursday’s massage client)
… I had run in the same circles as him
and had taken many photos..
I had made this photo book through something like LuLu
the conundrum was the old sepia large format pictures
ambient 1920’s
traveling on the train
with current technologies implicit
he was not satisfied with the book
he was in the car next to us
but the book was for a project for her
for some event honoring him
she was a brat
and cared for nothing
didn’t like the room
and wanted to be transferred
I was ” happy to be of service”
and was scrambling to make them both happy
succeeding nowhere
I asserted myself and demanded payment for the book and courier service
both became occupied
he or she was changing carriages and I was packing/repacking their clothing
trying on various pieces
his son was sitting on her steamer trunk reading a book
I was nervous he had seen me naked
and took it upon myself to show him the book about his Father’s life…
some moment happened where I was naked and changing clothes
the poet was around the corner
or I wanted him to be
I was aroused and wishing to seduce him
but unable to attain his attention
though later
through compassion
he showed me he had seen
both the girl and the man had prominent appointments at this event
they both seemed absent
and at a lull of interest
down by the sea
on a rocky beach
under a gigantic rock arch
reached through a cave
I told stories of the adventures he & I had when he was young
for he was famous
though I was relatively unknown
the crowd was rapt with attention
he arrived on the scene looking pale…
perhaps in an earlier dream this morning
or after all of these related events
I showed up at a party
similar situations, kinda
but now it was Lionel Richie, or something like that
was attending the party
I bumped into Xavier and he was surprised I was there, shocked to discover I had brought the star to the party…
I set out to sleep in an area of the large room
over in the corner
multi-leveled and dark
beds many feet apart, no distance between them, but depth
there were decorations on everything
skulls
and lace and beads
soft lights
a sepia tone still
(though there was a green field where we used to play… far away, in my memory)
the people were primarily “faerie”
wayfish boys with scraggly beards (specifically paul michalec)
and a good many trannies…
(but earlier, near the green field, there was a sex party happening in a room surrounded by mosquito netting, big oafish men thrown over eachother, or standing up in the sea of bodies punctuating my desire: I wasn’t interacting though… just wishing to engage)
Paul showed me to his bed
then was gone
I lay in it and napped
then startled awake from remembering the sex party and the dance party
wondering if either were still happening
and did Paul come back to find me in his bed and felt offended?
I tried to navigate through the maze of beds to find another open one I could sleep in
but there were occupied, or too light, or flat, or uninteresting
I began to hunt for someone I might like to sleep with
finding none
I ended up back at the dance party just as he was about to perform
(Hello, is it me you’re looking for?)
…………………..
down the rabbit hole
— perhaps all this detailed dreaming means I finally got some adequate rest
–no sign of lucidity there.
.
:.:
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