Dream: The Death Boat

There was a large house with high ceilings and very little furniture and no fabrics - curtains, tablecloths, pillows, or anything; I was on the second floor of this house, and so were some family members. I had said good-bye to some of them, and they were taken away by the death boat, and I was surprised when the death boat driver came back and said it was my turn. I walked closer to where he had pulled up next to the mezzanine, and I saw for the first time that the death boat was attached to a medium-sized balloon, which allowed the contraption to soundlessly and gently sail through the air.

I stepped aboard the boat and told the driver there must be some mistake, because it wasn't my time yet; I was already told this. He looked at his paperwork and confirmed that it indeed was not my time. He pointed at his papers and showed me that I had four-point-five more days to live, and then I would have to sail away with him.

Four-point-five days. I stood there, dumbfounded, looking back at my relatives on the mezzanine of the empty house. They carried on their business and conversations, hardly noticing I wasn't among them. This left me with an odd kind of peace, somehow, and it comforted me to know that I had four days left to tie up any loose ends before having to sail away on the death boat.

The driver and I chatted a bit, and I learned that he had died a long time ago, and being the death boat driver was his job now. He had been doing it for so long, and he was growing tired of it, but he couldn't leave until someone else took his place. After thinking about it a moment, I came to the conclusion that it wouldn't be such a bad thing to be a death boat driver; I'd have lots of time alone with my thoughts, and I'd get to meet lots of new people over the centuries. It could even be pleasant, even the parts where I'd have to bring the unwilling dead with me.

I pictured myself sailing the death boat balloon, and it was freeing, to sail everywhere and see, hear, and smell everything - sailing with only the clean sounds of the wind and the creaking wooden boat beneath my feet. Finally, the voices in my head could be calm and still, and I'd fulfill my duty between the worlds of living and dead like I was intended.

Dream: The Alligator-Boar

I was standing barefoot in a barren lagoon; it was an odd time of day, with a murky light and deep shadows in the cerulean air. I looked all around, and there were no people; for miles and miles, it was just me and the small animals. Birds, there were birds, and they burst upward from the sand like fireworks of feathers; grey and white birds with their white wings. The trees were blackened, charred, with sparse greenery left on their trunks.

Then, from the centre of the indigo water, I saw it. Its black head emerged from the ice-blue reflective water's surface - it looked like an alligator, but it moved faster. It was headed toward me, and I turned around and ducked behind a charred tree and a speckle of foliage. Fully out of the water now, it revealed a black, heavily textured, alligator-like body, mixed with an anteater. Its skin was hard and chunky, like raw obsidian and broken charcoal, and it moved fast on its four legs. It didn't see or smell me, and I watched it curiously as it circled a large perimeter around the lagoon.

As it walked, it began to change shape: its tail shrank into its body and disappeared; its jagged outer shell was absorbed into a human-like flesh; and its head morphed from an alligator head into a human female head. As quickly as it walked, the coarse alligator-anteater had turned into a woman-headed boar creature. She was wild, untamed, and she walked on all fours. Cautiously at first, I approached her with apprehension; I didn't want to frighten her, and I reached out my hand so she could catch my scent. She was startled, and some of the jagged outer shell began to appear again, but once she smelled me, she receded her shell and stretched out her body to me, like a horse that wanted to be petted. So I petted her, and her large boar-like body felt like a human's skin. Though she was wild, she was perfectly fine around me: unafraid.

The birds overhead had circled back, and they were headed toward the lagoon's shore once again.

--

Many of my dreams feature animals, and when the animal dreams come, there are never any humans around. It's just me with them.

Personal Note: Older vs. Younger

All I can say is this: I have a deep respect for the previous generations of the GLBT family. We (from the younger generations) have much to be thankful for because of their bravery, honesty, and heart. Also, older people are damn sexy! http://nymag.com/guides/summer/2009/57467/

Personal Note: Why I Feel Good Tonight

1. Organised the clothes in the closet and in the dresser; slowed me down and allowed me to enjoy the simple task of touching many different kinds of cloth and fabrics.

2. Line-dried my white shirts, and now they smell like sunshine and summer breezes; reminds me of my childhood, when we didn't have a clothes dryer. My favourite part about hanging clothes out to dry as a child was getting to squeeze the clothes pins; I loved the feel of the tight metal springs.

3. Figured out what I'll be wearing for the next two weeks; organised the closet so that all I'd have to do is grab one clothes hanger each morning and a pair of trousers. The only things I'd need to think about are socks and underwear, my favourite articles of clothing.

4. Had a coconut ice and ice cream smoothie from Joe's Italian Ice. It was so good, especially on a hot day like today.

5. Made the time to read some comic books; it was very, very relaxing and fun to feel like a teenager again.

6. Have a wonderful husband who is also my best friend; I love hanging out with him. And our baby-dog is a bundle of love and happiness.

TMI Doesn't Exist

Last night, at a random outing, a store clerk - whom I have seen on several occasions but don't know personally - told me about his three DUIs and some jail time due to those arrests. I only asked how his Fourth of July was going. Oddly enough, this kind of thing happens to me pretty often; perhaps I have an "I won't judge you" vibe in my aura, because I hear a lot of confessions for a non-priest. Consequently, I find myself living in a strange kind of bubble in which the idea of "too much information" doesn't exist, for me nor for others. While wonderful for my writing, I imagine myself a rather awkward person - like a big, open sore that walks around and pours salt on itself and others to see who flinches. Perhaps that's what poetry is for me; and, if that's the case, then I am merely a salt shaker with holes that are entirely too big for its lid.

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Initial Thoughts: HBO's New Show, "Hung"

On his new show, co-executive producer Dmitry Lipkin has this to say: "It has its sexual moments, but the show is very much about what's happening in the country, how people are trying to survive using what God had given them."

Quick premise:

Thomas Jane (of "Punisher") plays a man who's down on his luck and decides to give prostitution a go to make his millions.

My observations:

- First of all, if you're going to make sex a secondary topic in a series called "Hung" about a guy who becomes a prostitute, and have promo shots like the one shown above, then I'd call that false advertising. I write about sex, and I worked in advertising; I should know.

- Secondly, the show's pace (at least for the pilot episode) is glacially slow. The entire first episode could have been clipped together in about ten minutes of intelligent scenes, intermingled with just enough back story to give viewers revealing glimpses into the main character's background.

- Thirdly, pairing a prostitute with a poet would seem highly unlikely if that, in itself, wasn't the Universe waving right at me and saying hello. And the poet bakes. Seriously, was this written by someone I once knew?

Final word:

This show could do itself a favour by watching and learning from Showtime's new "Nurse Jackie" series. Three reasons why it's fantastic: 1) vibrant characters; 2) compelling storylines; and 3) right from the first episode, the main character (Nurse Jackie) sees multiple patients, where we are privy to experience different facets of her personality -- a quick way for the show to endear her to viewers; very smart.

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Friendly Reminder

Always use your turn signals when turning. That is all. :o)

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