Dear Waupaca Public Library
Oh, bless your dear heart. I couldn’t write this while visiting, ‘cuz if I started bawling in there, I’d get all embarrassed, and nobody knows what to do with a pathetic sobbing fascist. Thanks for not kicking me out all those other times, too. It was very Harper-Valley-PTA of you to tolerate my sluttiness, dirtiness, and horrible horrible swears. Crimeny. You know you wouldn’t have heard me any other way, don’t you? You have a lot to learn. We all do. Lot of work to do, too. At least a bunch more of us are at least speaking on the same page now, whether we agree or not isn’t nearly as important as just being able to hear everyone. The ones with important things to say will rise above the din, and the down-shouters will have their line-item veto revoked. Or, our line-item loving has just been expanded, and our numbers are pushing towards something that, dare I say, feels nearly democratic?!? We’re a long way from that, but giving each other art and sharing our dreams with one another is at least a step in the right direction.
As promised, Its Dreemz:
3/20/08, 2 am.
Dozing off, I heard a female voice calling my name. Then, seeing someone flung a very great distance (around the world?) only to be safely caught by a venus fly trap.
3/20, 9:45 pm
Just watched Nirvana: Live! Tonight! Sold Out!! And I can’t help but wonder. This book shall be dreams.
3/22, 10 am
I was with Paige, it was winter, and we walked out on some ice. As it cracked, I backed off. She stayed out, testing it. The more I pleaded for her to come back to shore, the more she stayed out. It was cracking, but she didn’t seem worried.
Oh yeah, did I mention I could levitate?
With Cody, and some rock band that had a big, black car, maybe a modified hearse. We went to a rock/metal bar first, and I forgot my jacket there. I complained, and we got a ride back, but then the place was cleared out for some sort of modern dance performance. People in tight, colorful costumes danced around, nobody seemed to be watching. They wouldn’t let me get my jacket.
3/26, 11 am
Met Tom Cruise. He gave a tour of this underground complex that had an escape pod on a sort of water tower. It kept reminding me of an earth ball for some reason.
3/29/08 5:46 am, Mom’s
I was a soldier. During a battle, I got shot, in the chest. I survived, though… even met a beautiful girl named Dakota while looking for a hospital, which ironically, I never found before waking up.
It almost felt like a video game. I saw the general scenario of what was happening, and was able to advance further in the dream by changing my actions. Originally, I was shot while parachuting down over a sniper in a pretty elaborate battle. I don’t know how I got in the air, because I started the battle on foot. I must have jumped, or I was flying. The time I finally survived, I didn’t pull my ‘chute, instead sort of twisting in slow motion, causing the sniper to either miss or hit me off-center enough for it not to kill me. After landing, I ran to my car, which was a hatch-back, possibly the Toyota. I had to get something out of my bag. I needed water, too. On the ground, next to the car in the leaves and dirt, was my red hat. I put it on, and running around looking for a doctor (though no too intently) is when I met Dakota. She told me she was going somewhere to eat, potatoes I think, because she had to put on weight.
Editors’ note: I just twittered while taking a dump. How d’ya like that? Heh heh heh.
In a large warehouse, performing some kind of weather test with my dad. It felt like we had snuck in. There was a large testing apparatus that struck a wire, then measured droplets on a long ruler-looking board. Then, some kind of chemical was used to (maybe) clean our hands.
After this test, the next day, a sort of “battle” I thought at first. But then, this girl turned around, bent over, and stuck a red bull can in her ass. She then “fired” it towards us. At least two more cans were forced out, a can of frozen strawberry soda and a can of Tab. By this point, I was laughing, quite comfortably and clearly entertained.
4/1/08, 8 am
At an amusement park, with a girl who I recognize occasionally as Jen. We go on a rollercoaster which I refer to as the Shockwave, but it’s not. It’s empty, there are maybe 3-5 people on it. There’s a black man in the 2nd row, right in front of me. He’s on the left, I’m on the right in the 3rd row. The girl is somewhere behind us. They send us around twice, which is cool. We get done, and the ride has changed. It’s now some spinny thing with detachable seats. The girl keeps them, holding up others in line. I return them, then suggest we go on the Iron Wolf. Just as I arrive, a side door closes on the left side of the line. The rest of the room is empty but for one person cleaning. There’s a sticker on the door that says something about JFK.
4/2/08, 10:30 am
At what is supposed to be the Alliant Energy Center, but it feels more like a High School or a hotel conference center. Ween is supposed to play, so I get there early. Stuff hasn’t been cleaned up from the afternoon meetings, so I snag some leftovers. Even before that, I ran into Max out on some sort of go-kart track in the parking lot.
I kept catching glimpses of an acoustic guitar player who was really good, so I tried to stick around for his show, but I ended up waiting for most of the time. It wasn’t until I said I was going to leave that the girl he was waiting for came back into the room so the show could start.
4/3/08, 9:30 am
Thailand, and possibly Vietnam. Much of the time was preparation, deciding if and where to go.
4/5 – Mri & Greg’s
I met Mariah and Greg’s kid. Then, I was on some kind of TV game show.
4/7 – First day of fast
Dreams of food. Woke up eating a pork chop, realized I was fasting… pissed. Also, in a quaint little neighborhood, with houses of many people I know. I was playing with Ruca. She learned to knit, made a teddy bear, a red one. Good dog!
4/9, 4:39 am
Job advice from Mri, regarding photoshopping some pictures of me: “Everything could benefit from an increase in spirituality.”
4/10, 9:14 am
Large building, sort of a cross between a capitol and an office building. I’ve been here before. I spent most of the time trying to convince a girl that she’s safe, that he’s not dangerous. Then, as if through a time-warp, his “pre-recovery” demon re-emerges.
Fri, 4/11/08, 6:32 am
I’m at a protest. I’m sitting on an elevated bleacher sort of structure, up on the left side of the room. Behind me is a fence, w/shifting cement square floor beyond that. It looks like it’s outside. At the protest, on a high platform over a building are two orange-clad prisoner looking guys, flanked by official-looking dudes in trench coats. Far below, on the ground, a large group of people in the same costumes. As I look at them, they appear to be people from Lothlorien Coop. I know this because I found a picture, which looks like this protest, below my seat.
When I get up to leave, I recognize more people. Matt is there, probably as a reporter. Headed to the bathroom I see they have food. I slice off a chunk of a fresh bread pocket filled with veggies and potatoes – delicious.
Also, at one point, I said to someone, “I’m typically not as protesty as you guys.”
9:45 am Went back here ↑. Skipped the food this time.
On a stage, making a song/video w/kids. Bam, crash, etc. Very rhythmic, danceable, shots of sliding across the stage. Fun.
Sat, 4/12/08, 11 am
Mom and I arrive at a McDonalds, but they’re not open yet. I see Abby and her mom going into the bathroom to change and open up. We go sit down. On the counter behind me is a sleeping bag, so I decide to take a nap. As I’m laying there, mom and some guy are talking shit about fasting. As he says, “but the body…” I interrupt, “is being poisoned by shit like this,” as I gesture to the counter, which has just opened. The S* sisters work there, too.
Mon, 4/14/08, 8:48 am
At Yale. I’m in my suit, at a big professional club, for a meeting w/the president (of Yale?). I forget my suit coat when I leave. He has a large set of perpetual-motion clacker balls. As I leave, I head down to the dining areas. It’s all expensive, so I grab a handful of veggies and a thing of milk, and run out the door. Outside, I see people I graduated with, but I refer to myself as a super-senior. I drop off the milk jug outside another college dining hall, but realize it’s still nearly half-full. I pick it up again, and run into Billy. He offers to help me finish it, but complains that it’s warm.
On my walk back to the dorm, I have to dodge some cars sliding around in the snow and hop over a snow bank. Then, I run into a group of freshmen from Morse, and we sit down to watch a movie. They’re talking about “going out” clothes, and I explain the free pile to them. One of their friends pulls out a gun and starts spelling something on the brick wall where we’re watching the movie – in bullet holes. People yell at him, but he continues until I say, “man, the cops will be here any second” and we see lights flashing in the distance.
4/17, 6 am
I’m having lunch w/Andre Benjamin, his son, and my dad. When I try to explain some of what I’ve learned about nutrition, my dad mocks me. I get pissed.
I take my guitar, a bag, jacket, etc. into a sort of resale shop. I think I’m looking for another guitar case, but there’s not one. Eventually, a ton of people show up, and my stuff, where I left it, is in their path. Then, its outside and raining, so it’s all muddy. Eventually, I realize I’m outside of a huge Christian gathering. I wander around outside, where I find two dorms. On my way past the second one I found, a really cute little black girl with punk clothes and tattoos on her face stops me to tell me a joke. I laugh, and sit down to join them (she has other “reject” friends).
4/19, 8 am
In CA, with Dad and Mariah. We’re on foot, walking some relatively busy desert/mountain roads. Along the way, I see a three-wheeled delivery van that whips u-turns very quickly. We pass a bar, which is right next to a police station. Dad decides not to get their phone number to call later. We cross the road, and when we’re almost across, Dad picks me up by the hips, giving me a wedgie. I hit him on the shoulder, tell him it may have been cool when I was a kid, but not now. We continue up the road a bit and stop for lunch. There are little tostadas, ground beef and “turtle shell,” similar to the ones I saw on an infomercial yesterday. I go straight for the beef, change my mind, and give Dad the rest.
4/21 10:16 am
A sort of High School reunion. I saw all 3 S* kids there. Then, upon seeing Brian, he directed me towards a woman who looked a bit like him. She had long, curly, dark hair (w/lots of hairspray). She cried as she gave me a long hug. When we finally pulled away, a bunch of hair was stuck in my mouth and to my face.
4/30 11:43 am
I’m staying in a room similar to Mom’s basement. It has a mattress on the floor. I have a girlfriend who’s very chill. She seems to like it when I touch her legs. We smoke weed with another friend, a guy.
My mom and Dad are both there, as if it’s their house. Dad comes in and asks me to find weed for him, and mom starts cleaning, removing clutter from the room. An orange kitten, who’s familiar, clearly my cat, but long forgotten and neglected, shows up.
Chased by a badger. It didn’t really frighten me, but it acted like a dog. When I tried to dismiss it, it empowered itself, standing up to being nearly human-sized.
7/14/08, 11:30 am
Chased by everybody and their mother. This was a long, drawn out scene that ended in a big accident involving a semi and a fire truck. That finally created enough of a diversion and road block for me to get away.
Sun, 2/22/09, 11:13 am
At a friend’s house in a strange town. I left my car parked outside. It may be near Nashville. The morning after a party, I go to look for my car, but it’s not where I left it. As I look around, a guy comes up to me and says, “you shouldn’t just leave your car around to get stolen.” I now recognize my car, which has a different front bumper (small, yellow, old), and a single wheel in front, like a caster. The guy begins to sound threatening, expecting me to leave. I don’t. I begin to ask him, more loudly, “Who is going to pay for the damage to my car?” At this, he starts to falter. I say again, “Who can I expect to send me a check for the damage to my car?” I pull out a notepad and begin writing. He tells me his name, but it’s already written in the notepad. He continues to yell about something, retreating to a sideways red box on the opposite side of the lawn. There are kids around by now. Suddenly, a female cop (beautiful) is there, telling him to put down his gun, which he is pointing at me (and 2 or 3 kids in the way). He looks resigned, pathetic, and completely terrified. The gun lowers.
Sun, March 1, 2009, 1:46 pm
Long, elaborate dream about espionage, spies, bugged phones, hidden cameras, etc. Gary was the head spy, he was married to Sarah. We had to go to a few different hotels, and there was a lot of flying around. In the end, the good guys won.
Tue, June 23, 2009, 12:50 pm
On a mountain side. At first it felt like camping, but then Greg & Leaf turned on us, sorta. I was running after them, but couldn’t catch anybody. The chase seemed to stop the fighting, though.
Wed, 7/15/09, 10 am
In a large building, maybe a dorm? I had a room in the basement. Upstairs, I was asking some models a question to which they’d reply, “no, I don’t have that problem.” I don’t remember the question, but it was just an excuse to talk to them anyway.
On my way back to my room, 2 girls were looking into an open door, in awe, sort of staring at a strange glow, but talking about how security was locking up the building. I returned to my dark, empty room.
th, July 16, 2009, 7:45 am
I look for a back door, see someone sleeping up against the house. I say, “G*? Is that you?” “Yes.” “Wanna come in and crash on the couch? I got blankets, it’s probably warmer.”
Fri, July 17, 2009, 6:14 am
Large dorm complex with metal stairs, an older, bureaucrat-ically-designed building where you can’t help but get lost. I’m a student.
One day, we can’t get, well, anything. One prof described being corralled on his way to the bathroom. I try the stairs, have to climb. One metal fence-like wall bends/falls slowly under my weight. I land softly, safely. Perspective different here. It’s rickety, cobbled together poorly. People try to get through. The wall I broke hit a switch that moved a platform on cables, nearly causing a girl to fall. She’s ok. Others follow, but the mechanism doesn’t work. John Kerry makes a cameo going through the metal maze, on his back, with what looks like a stove-pipe or funnel on his head (tin-man Lincoln?). The institution had been shut down to be reconfigured. Fresh boxes of TV’s w/sleep timers sit waiting in stacks.
I see a professor I hadn’t noticed before. I get his attention, ask if he teaches here. He says he’s working on his mission, TAing for… he gestures toward his student. I see a mostly naked, human-looking creature who has switched its attention from a monitor to me. Its face is so incomplete – no chin, no lower jaw – but large, soft, neonate eyes. Its body has odd horn-like protrusions. Its feet couldn’t fit regular shoes, they’re spiky, toothed.
The prof, who had looked bald and frail, shifts, shuffles, stands to speak to me. He’s tall, body-builder looking, with a full head of white hair. He gestures to a ledge/platform/couch-looking thing where I sit. A large curtain, edge weighted, drops to enclose an area to speak privately, but the end, 90 degrees from the curtain, is still open. I ask him whether he knows what’s going on. He says, “I guess we’re not allowed any more. It was bound to happen.” I ask who “we” is, humanoids? He starts to look nervous. I say, “look, my name is…” but he doesn’t want to know. I tell him my first name, but the curtain is already rising. Now there are busses, people in suits/uniforms w/radios. Most people are seemingly content with this new set-up, but I’m uneasy. Awake… random notes follow
Even during a party I spend half the time alone in my room. Fascist transition under the thinly-veiled guise of a party. People patiently, calmly terrorized. I suspect rooms are being searched, they could have been, anyway. Right arm numb as I woke…
Fri, 4/23/10, 3:29 pm
Long, elaborate dream about espionage, campers, and parties.
At a huge party in a rented space, some sort of disruption was set up. I had managed to get a hold of a gun, but when I fired it, it went like 20 ft and bounced. All the “bomb” did was flood the room, and I heard someone say “now it’s exactly like going to Washington.”
I had been given a big bag of reddish looking weed earlier, and this complex on a hill had lots of secret tunnels and passages.
And guess what? That’s it. Those are almost all of the dreams I remember having, for my entire life. I had a nightmare about Scooby Doo when I was a kid, and another one where a huge snapping turtle bit off my arm on the sidewalk down the hill from my old high school. Yep, that’s it.
My “levitation” capabilities seemed to be, from what I remember, like swimming, but faster. I’ve always wanted to fly, and now that I know I can, I look forward to the moment I allow myself my own dreams.
Yeah, I could have formatted this like a book, commissioned free found art, and tried to get it “published,” but then the only people who get to see it have to pay. If the dreams of our public officials aren’t public, what is?
p.s. If you want to assemble my work and sell it, use it to decorate your own work, or in any other way use me or my life to sell something to your friends, go right ahead. Give me the same percentage cut you would think is fair, were our roles reversed. I now have expenses (rent, communications, food) and my income consists of donations I receive campaigning/busking/begging door-to-door and on street corners. Spend that $8 from your entertainment budget on me and I’ll teach you how to make your own movies, start your own school, or fix your own computer. I don’t know all that much myself, really. Just enough to be “dangerous.” I can point you in the right direction, and introduce you to people you’ll probably want to meet along the way. I’m sort of a translator, but you gotta remember: breaking data down to its smallest possible chunks turns it all into scrap. Recognize the freedom and flexibility of knowing that all is left of you, of any of us, at any given moment, are scraps of the past. Let’s freely assemble, shall we!