Dream 2/28/08

I was gathering up my things from the floor when something pricked my finger. It was a hypodermic needle. Oh fuck, I said and squeezed the tiny puncture wound hard. A fat, ruby-red droplet formed, which I inexplicably licked, then thought better of it and found a gauze pad soaked in hydrogen peroxide. Who knows who used that needle? Maybe I'll die soon. I packed the rest of my belongings into the car and set out into a lonely road. Its edges were covered in drifts of sand. I looked up at the sky and gasped. I MUST take a picture of this, I said to the driver. She stopped while I rummaged through the floor of the car to find my camera. It was buried under piles of books and clothes.

What's so important about it? she asked

The beam! The beam of darkness! I answered.

The world is not only crucifixion, it is also beauty. Or more precisely, the world's crucifixion is beautiful. This beauty reveals itself in the patterns and harmonies of nature, which the ancient Pythagoreans found so miraculous. The harmony of natural laws is what prompted them to speak of God as a geometer.

And I am full of smoldering rage. Last night I dreamed of two boys picking on me in church. I had put on a white dress, delicate, with pearls sown into the creases. It covered my everyday ordinary clothes. The boys were vicious, they scratched me, called me names. I was furious - I grabbed one by the shirt and told him he ought to be ashamed of himself. He stroked his crotch in response. I spat in his eye. The parents took him away to my relief, but then I noticed the priest was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned to the navel. A heavy crucifix hung around his neck on a thick gold chain, like a gangbangers's accessory. I went home to a beautiful room, polished wood floors, one bed too many, which, I concluded, needed to be removed to make ample space for a perfect life. My parents were just behind the wall.

I lie down on the hard cool tiles. It is sunset. The breeze sways the white curtains in the windows, which have no glass.