My stomach was all torn up this morning.
I had this time portal dream where Gil and I are 7 and 9, respectively. (I’m 2 years older) For reasons unexplained, we’re being held prisoner by this pudgy WASP type in this modernized house in Reseda. The address is 8111 Batha Street, and there are spruce and cherry trees out front, a toy plastic bicycle on the lawn, and fallen acorns on the driveway.
It’s gray outside, like San Francisco gray, where no one wants to get out of the house but smoke and cook vegan pasta and read books in living rooms. Anyways, I’m freaking the fuck out, being older than Gil, who is exploiting his youth and naivete to his advantage. The thought of being kidnapped by a strange, manic, but sweet guy hasn’t fully entered his brain, but it’s all I can think about. My stomach is compressed, my lungs burn from restrained tears and my head is shaking in panic. He’s offering Gil cookies and milk – smiles sadistically and restrains me with his fat hand on my chest, pushing me back into the plush, beige couch if I try to move too quickly.
It’s night.
I have my Google phone on me, which is somehow impossible because it hasn’t even been invented yet. I write a message to my brother Edahn…I can see the words…
We’ve been kidnapped. This is not a joke. We’re on 8111 Batha Street. Send the cops. There’s a hallway to the left when you enter, and we’re in the first door on the left. I’ll be, I am waiting. This is not a joke. He has weapons. Bring SWAT.
Gil called me at 9.36. I tell him everything, my stomach still hurts. It was so real. It took hours to go through. He looks up the address. It EXISTS. But it’s in South Carolina.
You want to know the sick, twisted ending? As I’m walking to school I started thinking how I could work this whole thing into an ad.
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March 5, 2009 at 5:02 pm
froylein
Dreams are our subconscious interpretation with which we link thousands of random images that appear on our mind during sleep.
If that cheers you up, I had a dream the other night about trannies and mutants teaming up to produce and perform in a musical, but on opening night, it turns out they’re just in to eat the audience.
March 6, 2009 at 9:19 am
urbaneskimo
Mutants. What color were they? Were these friendly mutants? Aside from the eating humans part. Would I want to go, say, wine tasting with them?
Is it lame or affable to admit how big my heart fills when I notice that there’s a comment awaiting approval on urban eskimo? Aside from when its a spammer from Korea trying to promote his Viagra product, it’s so lovely.
March 7, 2009 at 1:14 pm
froylein
The mutants looked like scar tissue with pus oozing from it. And they were not proportional, partly had extra limbs. I don’t think they were too friendly afterall they wanted to eat the audience pretty badly. Maybe they’d have enjoyed the wine tasting if you’d dressed up like a cheese or a piece of crusty baguette.
I do read all your posts, sonny, I just can’t always come up with a good reply. Look forward to my next post; it’ll get a few knickers in a knot.
April 2, 2009 at 12:15 am
Cassie Mestre
That’s hilarious. Yesterday night I had a dream where I asked one of my friends for a ride to Walgreens (I don’t know if you have those in San Fran, but they’re a chain of Pharmacy Stores) and though there’s one right by my house, my friend took me to Butt Fuck Egypt. The funny thing is I knew I had to tell her we were going in the wrong direction, but I was too embarrassed to say anything. So she dropped me off, and then I’m left stranded there with no money and no cell-phone (funny because if I went to the store wouldn’t I have money?). Then when I borrowed a phone from someone and texted (much like in your dream, minus the google phone) my other friend she blatantly avoided my cry for help and started talking about something else, though I can’t seem to recall what.
Dreams always leave me frazzled and sometimes frustrated.
Though it would be hard to turn that into an Ad, I think if I thought long enough on it I could manage it. Or at least get inspiration from it!