hic vigilans somniat
It’s night and we’re driving, my friend David and me. I’ve known him a long time. Since we were in sixth grade, I think. We’ve stayed in touch that whole time, mostly. Well, we fall out of touch and then back into touch. We haven’t seen each other in years — almost twenty, I think . . . though I’m not… Continue reading david and mickey
...the spider struggles against the pull of the water as the tub drains, a thin filament of almost wire-like web cast out like a dark line . . . it clenches like a fist in the water, and I feel the tug of the web and pull my hand away, leaving it to it’s fate...
...and I have no breath to scream as my daughter falls twenty feet to the hard concrete floor, a gasp pressing out of my as I run to pick up her tiny, limp body. “Oh god, her eyes...” I turn away hiding her face from my wife so she cannot see how our daughter’s right eye has become detached and is floating… Continue reading the floating eye
...I find myself in the front row, enduring an abysmal production of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” directed by my ex-wife. It’s godawful. Pretentious and ponderous. They’ve changed the language, modernized all the poetry out of it. And, insult to injury, they’ve added songs, turning it into a musical. Only Puck holds any interest. Dark and twisted, a spiky clenched fist… Continue reading opening night
I would be delighted if my ex-wife didn’t show up in my dreams, however briefly, ever again.
Woke early this morning with a handful of broken fragments from last night’s dreams, losing little shards as the day progresses, memories and images slipping through my fingers and lost for good. Here’s what’s left... ...a heartfelt farewell from one of my clients, almost paternal in how touching his words are... ...my wife and I stop off at a local bar set… Continue reading lounge act
...there are three children playing at the curb, jumping in and out of a deep puddle of mud and dirt. The oldest of these, perhaps eight years old, stops in the midst of bossing the other two around and turns as he notices me... ...and a man’s voice tells me “Look to the world around you...” as I wake up,… Continue reading Sunday nap
...we sit together in the small living room, balancing plates on our knees and doing our best to keep up the conversation despite the fact that there are some genuinely difficult conflicts unresolved between a few of us. And the fact that some of us are dead. It’s a surprise to see them, my grandparents. Odder still is the appearance of… Continue reading brief reunion
...a long bodied cat, muscular and lean, stalks through the room — insane eyes, gaping mouth drooling as it swivels its head from side to side . . . its long gray fur matted and ragged, trailing after it in the air... ...I turn and see the electrical plug floating in the air before my face, the cord dangling. With a… Continue reading fragments
Mind wandering around as I waited for sleep to come, dozy logic moving from Macon Leary to Edward Gorey to Ernest Hemmingway . . . then, the image of a local highway, the flashing lights of police cars against the pale winter sky.
I find myself on a tour of a city somewhere in Eastern Europe. It is a dank, darkly industrial place — all smokestacks and ornate spires, brick walls stained with soot. Tagging along with a friend from junior high — he has made this trip many times before — I wander through the streets and shops, taking pictures as I go...… Continue reading eastern promises
...I find that I have overslept and am in a rush to get a stack of deposits to the University’s bank by noon, otherwise all of the faculty and staff paychecks will bounce. The deposit is a stack of checks and slips totaling hundreds of thousands of dollars. There are pink and yellow carbon copies, very slippery to keep in… Continue reading payroll
...and I’m surprised to find out that not only are each of us getting our own office in the new building, but we’ll have an attached bedroom as well. A few of my coworkers even have bunkbeds. The gossip around the office is that this is to allow for a more Mad Men like atmosphere. “Aren’t we way too busy… Continue reading the new office
Dozing on the couch while the baby has her bath, I dream… …and at the turn of the stairs I look up to see a shadow slowly slide down the wall and onto the floor, like a black puddle of oil. From this pool, a figure slowly rises — an almost cartoonlike shape of a man, pale eyes like saucers peering out… Continue reading the shadow on the stairs
Somehow, I have become two people. There is the adult version of me, as I am now. And there is the teenaged version of me. Together, we are plotting to rescue my youngest daughter from her daycare. The details of why she needs rescuing aren’t explained but, armed to the teeth and sick with worry, we make our plans. (Even in my… Continue reading daycare rescue
We’re all a little worried about Patton Oswalt. Having known him since we were kids, it’s obvious he isn’t himself lately. He’s depressed, lethargic, and we’re all little bit worried. But he’s a celebrity. It’s not like we can just check him into a hospital. So my wife and I and a few other friends go on Patton watch. I… Continue reading a friend in need
This is the first dream I can remember — obviously, it’s not the first dream I ever had. That’s long gone now. But this is the earliest one I can remember... ...we’re driving in the car, my two brothers and me. Out mother is behind the wheel. We’re on our way to the grocery store. My older brother Scott sits… Continue reading the fuzzy pink octopus spider monster
...for some unknown reason, our family has been relocated to what can only be charitably described as “the bad part of of town.” The neighborhood is a congregation of cheap, prefab homes and trailers jumbled together with only the thinnest of spaces between them. The houses stand (barely) on two hillsides with the street running between them. Each house is a… Continue reading just another white trash weekend
...disturbing discoveries in the new house continue as we settle in. (I should mention that this is not our actual house, not the new house we moved into earlier this year, but some alternate, dreamspace version that has that same-but-not-the-same quality which you only find in dreams.) There is the painting in the upstairs bedroom, for instance. At first glance,… Continue reading the dancing toy
...shocked at how seedy the old neighborhood looks, I feel a pang of survivor’s guilt over my own relatively comfortable life now. Through the open door of the apartment, I can see that our old neighbors are sitting down to dinner. I’m stunned for a moment to find that the little boy my son used to play with is now a… Continue reading an uncomfortable visit
...passing through one of the seedier parts of town, I stop off to visit with an old friend from college. I’m surprised to find him here, in such strained circumstances. We sit out on his little patch of front yard and chat for a bit, but it quickly grows tiresome. He’s consumed by self-involved bitterness about the past and where… Continue reading cages
...and we’re walking together, my son and my youngest daughter, on the grounds of the local university. It is late afternoon, the sun just beginning to set behind the hills. I stop for a moment to inspect a statue. My son continues on, leading his sister by the hand up the pathway. After a few minutes, I catch up with him… Continue reading statues
...gathered around the table, we trade anecdotes and witty replies . . . just a bunch of guys hanging out, who also happen to be famous — all except me, of course. I can’t believe I’m here, can’t believe that everyone just assumes I belong... ...he’s lying in the shore, dozing in the early evening breeze. The surface of the… Continue reading a jar of mud and other fragments
I said to my daughter “Get behind me.” “What’s wrong?” “I’m not sure. Something weird’s going on.” “I can handle weird, dad.” I looked at her. “My kind of weird.” She got behind me. [I’m guessing at the date on this one, based on something I posted to Pinterest seven months ago. Apparently this dream involved skeletons and a doctor’s waiting room.]
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated May 4th, 2003] ...and as I’m walking through the parking lot towards my car, I see two guys approaching — I make eye contact, just to established that they know that I know they’re there . . . One of them nods and says “How’s it going?” And… Continue reading thugs and church
...and when I walk through the door, she’s sitting there on the couch, holding a cup of tea to her lips, one leg tucked under her, staring out the window and I stand there, watching her for a moment and she looks up and sees me, and she smiles. And I wake up.
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated September 12th, 2001] And in my dream my three-year-old nephew [REDACTED] — plagued by depression and despair all his short little life — has finally given into his despair, twisting a length of picture hanging wire around his neck and hanging himself. I find his stiff body eyes… Continue reading nephew, demon
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated July 25th, 2001] Nothing good is coming... ...and because my brother is being appointed to such a prestigious position as ambassador, our whole family has been invited to come and take part in the ceremony and reception.
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated May 15th, 2001] ...and I am sitting there in Nate’s diner waiting for her to arrive. Finally, my time running short, I get up to leave. At the counter, the night shift waitress turns over the reign to the day shift. Nate stands, friendly and smiling wryly with… Continue reading the breakfast date
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated May 4th, 2000] ...and because I have been thrown out of my house, lost any connection to my wife and children, I am living in an old building adjacent to where I work — downtown, in the old industrial district, where an empty warehouse is easy to find. I… Continue reading the girl in the warehouse
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated September 28th, 1998] Dream of a child, born late and fully formed — with an unmistakeable look of recognition in her clear blue eyes. Another dream of a bazaar in Night City — somewhere in The Midlands, at least — and a momentary flirtation that, once over, stays with… Continue reading blue eyes
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated August 10th, 1998] ...horrid dreams, my two children poisoned and dead in their coffins, and no one to save me from my despair...
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated June 16th, 1998] ...and, somehow, in my dreams I hear a huge crash — metal and glass — ignoring it, I dream on... ...a flickering light from outside — flash of orange through the blinds — send me up to the window, women’s voices, laughing and talking . .… Continue reading flames, new and old
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated January 6th, 1997] I stand in the front window and watch as the car makes its second pass, making myself as visible as possible to the men inside . . . letting them know that there are people home and they’ll have to find someone else to rob. On… Continue reading home invasion
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated December 6th, 1996] ...I’m standing in front of a shelf full of journals and books in the dead man’s rooms. I take one down, finding [ILLEGIBLE] and poetry, handwritten recollections between the pages — it dawns on me that these are the rooms of my great uncle, the… Continue reading the recursive old woman
…and in my dream it is a lion that circles and follows me—a savage pet that, inexplicably, had made us his family… …I see a screen door opening and closing, sweeping its shadow across the afternoon light… …I see a four poster bed in a sea of boxes, an island of bitter regret… …I see my son.
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated April 11th, 1994] And it doesn’t get any better as the days go on. Wasted time and uneasy sleep. Like Macbeth, I have murdered the deep life — drowned by days, and smothered under chemical work and answering machines.
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated April 4th, 1994] Ghost dreams. Windows that won’t stay closed. Doors opening onto nothing. Tired and depressed, once again.
Shut up in the darkness. “Leave her be, O, she’s in hell.” I demand her release from the Shadow Cupboard. A final kiss for my mistress and then I turned to look for my wife — seeing only a mad, wizened, blind creature scuttling in the darkness. Dear God. And I thought I was in Hell. Awakening with a story — whole… Continue reading Mister O
Walking through a parking lot towards a line of children. Accosted, my money taken. Finally convincing them to let me go — “Please, I’m getting married today.” Amazingly — I’m released. But the ceremony has started and I’m late. Putting on a tuxedo in the great underground empire while searching for a washcloth. Sent on some pissant while of an errand… Continue reading wedding errand
Blood, spelling out a hastily scrawled curse or warning: “IF YOU CONTINUE, YOU WON’T SEE THE END. IF YOU WRITE IT, IT WILL NEVER BE READ. IF YOU TELL THE STORY, NO ON WILL LISTEN.” And blood scrawling away to nothing. A moment to pause and gasp. And the voice of Constantine rises within. “You want to fuck with me? I’ll bloody choke… Continue reading the blood curse
Blood, spelling out a hastily scrawled curse or warning: “IF YOU CONTINUE, YOU WON’T SEE THE END. IF YOU WRITE IT, IT WILL NEVER BE READ. IF YOU TELL THE STORY, NO ON WILL LISTEN.” And blood scrawling away to nothing. A moment to pause and gasp. And the voice of Constantine rises within. “You want to fuck with me? I’ll bloody choke… Continue reading the blood curse
Dreaming of empty houses. Rooms like vaulted graves, Corners filled with dust and bones.
So I have received a dose of poison and I am slowly dying. My body is slowing down and seizing up. I can feel my muscles and joints hardening... Dying. As I’m going, my father is holding me and I’m crying. I’m asking him questions. “Will I go to heaven? Tell [REDACTED] I’ll miss her.” I can feel my body going,… Continue reading limbo
Three old men. Drunken and cheaply dressed sit in a library and make vulgar innuendos to every girl who walks by. In the background a brass ensemble plays Cab Calloway tunes.
Do demons stand still? Can you look for them in corners or out of the way places? Do demons stop long enough for you to see them? Do demons stand near us? Where do they stand? In the dream, my house has been transformed into a filthy hole. The kitchen is a mess, bits of food, dirty pots and pans, and… Continue reading mother, father, cat
a hard couple of months visualizing, thin times