Sometimes the best way to explain something is an abstract, vague metaphor that can be interpreted in many different ways. An added bonus to this writing method is that a large enough group will see this work as brilliant, whether or not that is the case, making this stuff the literary equivalent of a Rorschach ink blot test. Some of these are actual dreams. The first one is, at least. About half of these were hallucinations, to be honest. It’s funny so far, because I haven’t made a joke yet. This is really just a little place to throw short stories and other thoughts that do not fit anywhere else. Here are just a few.
Have you ever dreamed you were fully clothed, and everyone else was naked? Why is it always the other way around? Guess that’s for the best, considering the heavyset, hairy, typically angry black men that frequent mine. In this first dream I find myself walking down a street, naked, and alongside a heavy stream of traffic. Insecure, I search desperately for a piece of clothing to cover my indignity from the oncoming motorists. The inability to hide my shame… I mean, my pride (yeah, sure) is eventually accepted. Unable to find cover, I perform a little happy dance for all to see. Liberated, a pair of boxer shorts materialize around my waist.
The universe is shaped in the silhouette of a human being, sitting in a doctor’s office. The doctor is a man in white, with a clock for a head. Inspecting a mole resembling the Earth on the face of the universe; the doctor comments, “What a lovely beauty mark. It would be a shame to remove it. We’ll test it to see if its malignant.”
Running on a wooden bridge, a man rushes towards his goal. With his head forward, in a hasty stride, the man skips over many wooden planks. Reaching the end, there is only the edge of a cliff leading off into nothing. Disillusioned and defeated, the man begins walking back from where he came. He trips on one of the planks previously skipped over. Too tired to get back up, the man rolls on his back, and finds what he has been looking for. Returning to the cliff, the man leaps off.
Standing in the shallow end of a swimming pool, I see that the floor beneath me is encrusted with gems of every form. Being pushed and shoved by a crowd trying to pry the precious stones from the bottom, I move to the deep end where the bottom cannot be seen or reached. Here I am able to swim in a freer space.
Wrapped in thought, I pace back and forth, until the ground below starts to wear down. As I continue to pace, I eventually find myself standing on a massive pile of diamonds. I stuff my pockets with as many as I can carry, before climbing back to the surface. Fretful to the reaction of others, I tell no one of my treasure. Unable to tolerate the vexation, I give the gemstones away, only to discover a superior reward. Deliberately digging, this time, I stand to do it all over again.
That’s all for now. Tune in next week for some more obscure nonsense – same angry-time, same angry-channel.