Friday, March 14, 2008
I woke up pretty early today with a thirst that could only be brought on by late night revelry and I got to have some breakfast with my mom. After vacuuming the steps, I thought I'd get a quick nap in before I started reading my History and I had the MOST FUCKED UP DREAM EVER. Here it is:
my mom and I are driving in our car (that was suddenly a convertible version) with me in the passenger seat when my mom almost attempts to make a left hand turn in front of this red sports car. I tell her to wait and recognize that the car is the Swordfish, the car Harrison, Harry, and Dane are taking across country. I wave at them and they stop next to us. Harrison gets out of the car, book in hand, to talk to me. He says that they decided just to forego the whole trip to Seattle because of all hassles they believe would be on the way.
Then I notice that Harrison has sleeves on both of his arms. I disregard one, grabbing his right arm saying "I haven't seen this yet". The tatt is two brown buildings with just the sparcest of black lines to suggest windows. There is a yellow moon above and grey smoke around the buildings and into the air. I remembered thinking that the smoke was kind of like the curls in Starry Night but also reminded me of the smoke in J. Alfred Prufrock. The style was all solid color in simple shapes on a solid black background. I said, "I like it". He replied in a low voice, "I love you". "huh?" "I like it too." "heh, ok."
I told him to call me about getting back to school and we got back into our cars to leave. I noticed that I then had his book in my hands.
Now at my house, my mother hands me the phone saying it's my dad. I answer and all I hear is his soft, garbled, post-stroke speech- I love you, goodbye. I ask him to repeat but there's no answer. Then a nurse picks up and in a hurried tone says, "Is he a top priority patient?" "I don't know. He's my dad." By the time I say "dad", I'm crying hysterically. The nurse quits talking and I run into the bathroom screaming, "Somebody talk to me!" I hear, "I can't find a pulse", then more silence. I scream and scream until finally I know it's of no use.
I look into the bathroom mirror and one of my front teeth falls out. I take it into my mother's room and she is not too impressed nor does she seem worried about my state at all. I go back into the bathroom and proceed to have all of my top teeth fall out. I'm still crying like mad- now not just because my father has most likely committed suicide but also because all of my teeth are falling out which I relate to being because I am so upset. I start trying to salvage what teeth are left up top, picking out the little bits of broken tooth stuck in my gums that have accumulated into a substantial pile on the countertop when I notice that some of my front teeth have reappeared. "Have they grown back?" I inspect them closer.
I wake up running my tongue on the backs of my top teeth.