a needle in a needle factory
Oct. 3rd, 2001 09:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aslantlast night we watched woody allen's manhattan. the black and white letterbox screen, endless conversations, proustian revision work, the endlessly emptying ideas. one of the better movies i've seen in a long time. odd, however, the early scene with fireworks over the manhattan skyline, black and white explosions, with the triumphant rhapsody in blue soundtrack, an echo from the earlier, innocent days. an echo of recent, similar scenes on the television of our uninnocent events.
i dream that gabe and jennie and i went to visit jr at d's house. just like old times! the long empty rooms, boy-territory. chris was there, looking up at me with his great sad eyes. jr grins, he wears a suit and is pacing when i walk in. in my dreams he is always much younger. he gives me a piggyback ride into the living room. before d's house the three of us had gone to jr's old house, which was in a long descending white spiral like the guggenheim. after entering and silently creeping around we realized it wasn't his house anymore. his parents moved ages ago! i whispered, stifling giggles as we fled before the owners could catch us. we were all lined up on couches [he held my hand] and chattered about cd covers being done by comic book artists. who illustrated the prisoner? i ask. he answers.
then i dream of a strange room. i have a deck of cards, which are also dominoes. i am laying them out in a spread to read them like tarot cards, and then professor f is there. i greet him but he is silent at me, resentful. spreads out his antique-looking cards which are long and cold like his hands. he knocks all of mine out of the way again and again despite my protests. but will not answer my challenges. i back him into a corner, i say, do it! i dare you! i push him over the edge and he does, to my sudden shock. backs me against the wall with his hands pinning my wrists and then my throat, growing taller as i watch. shakily i cede to him.
starfucker stuck in my head.
i dream that gabe and jennie and i went to visit jr at d's house. just like old times! the long empty rooms, boy-territory. chris was there, looking up at me with his great sad eyes. jr grins, he wears a suit and is pacing when i walk in. in my dreams he is always much younger. he gives me a piggyback ride into the living room. before d's house the three of us had gone to jr's old house, which was in a long descending white spiral like the guggenheim. after entering and silently creeping around we realized it wasn't his house anymore. his parents moved ages ago! i whispered, stifling giggles as we fled before the owners could catch us. we were all lined up on couches [he held my hand] and chattered about cd covers being done by comic book artists. who illustrated the prisoner? i ask. he answers.
then i dream of a strange room. i have a deck of cards, which are also dominoes. i am laying them out in a spread to read them like tarot cards, and then professor f is there. i greet him but he is silent at me, resentful. spreads out his antique-looking cards which are long and cold like his hands. he knocks all of mine out of the way again and again despite my protests. but will not answer my challenges. i back him into a corner, i say, do it! i dare you! i push him over the edge and he does, to my sudden shock. backs me against the wall with his hands pinning my wrists and then my throat, growing taller as i watch. shakily i cede to him.
starfucker stuck in my head.
