war games

We are now living in post-apocalyptic cities where nothing grows and all industrial progress has ceased. The sun never shines here, it is always dark. There are no animals left, we have eaten them all — there are only trees, decrepit buildings, and us. Without animals we no longer have a reference that we can point to and claim the vague animator we call “instinct” exists; nor do we have operational machines to tear into the land. Without these we no longer feel dominion over anything; and even the most Earth loving among us are weak and angry.

The boys are marching off to war. There is a black clothed team and a white clothed team. I’m with the black. This war is a senseless game, neither side has a goal; but people will die, many people will die. While marching into the silent and empty forest I desert my company and build a raft out of old animal bones and twigs. I float down a tame stream and arrive at a place where I am stuck inside a photographic book that is similar to a high school year book. There is always one photo that is animated and talking. The type of dialogue taking place is like that of an evening news show conducting an interview. I am asked what I think the biggest problem we now face is. The page turns and my photograph is animated — in it I am a teenager, I have long hair and I’m wearing a red KGB shirt with a hammer & sickle decal on it. I proclaim proudly (in the way only a teenager can) that it is because we have abandoned ourselves, and that I have never abandoned anything. But my adult self who is wittnessing my talking teenage photograph knows this is not true — I have just abandoned my army.

Beethoven’s 5th symphony begins blasting into the world. I can hear it perfectly, it is precise. The book closes and the trees uproot. The world is receiving its final apocalyptic blows. I am not worried, instead I am marveled by how my dreaming mind is capable of reproducing this complicated music — and I wake up with it still ringing in my ears. ♨

black snow

It’s a red night, and the city’s narrow streets are full of a gritty blackish slush, 3 sloppy inches thick. My feet are getting wet and spirits low. I’m looking for someone — for my brother, Joseph. We were doing a photo shoot of a fucked up version of the “Alice in Wonderland” tea party. Everyone involved is getting anxious, and I am worried that they will turn violent soon. Their teeth have been removed for the shoot, and they look terrified and resentful. Where is my damn brother! If I don’t find him soon these toothless freaks will rip me apart with their wooden hands and black gums. ♨

ice donkeys

I’m in the back seat of a topless jeep with my friends, Patrick & Jen. It’s night. We are in city resembling Hanoi, Vietnam. After a few minutes we realize the driver has vanished, and we are headed, full speed, into oncoming, one-way traffic. I scramble to the front and attempt to gain control of the auto. I jerk the wheel and we go over the wide medium. The steering is awkward. I can barely gain control over the machine, but I manage to get us into the basement of a department store. People are telling me to go into a crowded room. The room is red and full of donkeys that have human heads. They are running in circles and merging into one another — the trunk of their bodies fuse and their heads and legs multiply. I reach out my neck and take a big bite out of one of beasts. Its flesh is flavorless and as cold as ice, there is no blood. A nude woman emerges from the tear in its skin. She dances before me and I quickly start to feel uncomfortable and decide to leave. ♨

shrinking hand collection

I am arranging a small box I’ve been given. It it is filled with hands of various sizes and muted colors, there are about 12 of them. I am standing them on their flat sliced wrist. The box also has water and stones in it. It is as if it is an aquarium. People are watching me arrange my hand collection. One hand in particular stands out. It is pale, tiny, thin, and the fingers are long. No one seems to mind what I’m doing, and I have no idea why I am doing it. The grotesque nature of act doesn’t seem to be of issue to anyone nor myself.
– – –
I am walking with my brothers and friends (Patrick & Jen) down a busy city street. The buildings surrounding us are about 10 stories tall and mostly lack any right angles, almost all have terraces. There is a giant asian woman standing on one of the buildings to our left, we are directly beneath her. She is taller than any building in the city. She is swaying back and forth; and although her appearance is sinister, she doesn’t seem to take any notice of the tiny life buzzing beneath her. As we are walking I remember that I have been on top of that building before, and I have also unknowingly been as tall as the woman. I recall how, not so long ago, I was looking down on a tiny world and was able to pick up cars as if they were toys. I explain how interesting the experience was to my companions and recommend they try it. I tell them the woman isn’t actually a giant, but something happens to your perception when you stand on the building in that particular spot. It is not you that grows, but everything else that shrinks — yet everything and everyone shrinks in proportion to itself and each other so no one is aware of the massive change that has taken place. So we believe we see a giant, but if this giant were to turn around, all the people she came with onto the roof of the building would all seem of normal size. And when the person leaves the rooftop all things neatly and swiftly resize themselves and no notice of it is made.
We arrive at Patrick & Jen’s condo, and they start to give us things: shoes, sandals, lots of diamond-plated dental tools, some caulk, and a red drill. My bag is full, and I laugh saying they are giving me all their stuff again. Patrick warns me not to caulk up any of the holes in my house. I think his warning has something to do with the way homes are ventilated in this city. I take my leave. I descend the stairwell and when I reach the door glowing white beams are jetting out through its edges. Something isn’t right. Something has happened to the world outside. I reach out and turn the handle and as the whiteness streams out and envelops me I close my eyes to avoid its painful blindness. It doesn’t matter, the flesh of my eyelids isn’t enough to block this white energy from penetrating my mind. And when I feel my eyes open I see my arm outstretched before me sideways. I am lying on my bed. Awake. ♨

plastic nose thugs

I’m being hunted by a gang of giant people. They all have plastic noses. One of them saw me in a store and tried to crack my skull with a massive padlock. I dodged it. People that I think are my friends are not. Sometimes, in certain lighting conditions, I can see that they too have a plastic nose. My friend Heather is on my side, but doesn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation, and how much these people want me dead. There is this place that I keep returning to. It’s a holy place, but when someone tries to light incense or candles they are shot. I try to warn people, but they continue to make a pilgrimage to the place. A gang member is flirting with a girl friend of mine. I try to tell her that he is only trying to sleep with her, but she only says “and so what if he goes through it.” I’m not entirely sure what she means, but I get the feeling that she is falling for the thug. I tell her to be careful, knowing the violence that is in him. ♨

dark ark

I’m in a foreign town that I am familiar with. There are occasional giant pools of water in the streets, perhaps from flooding. A man I don’t trust is seeking out my advice regarding the town. I offer him a small amount of information and try to exit the situation; but somehow I end up in a room with him and a few others. They want to know things about the underbelly of the town, but I clamp up more and eventually leave.
I’m walking home through the wet, busy streets. It’s taking a long time. The man bikes by, and I hide from his sight. There is word of a school up on a hill that is offering a language class I want to take. I climb the mountainous hill with a female friend (whom I don’t remember), and the “school” comes into sight. It is a massive ark, bigger than I have ever seen before in my life — I can’t even hold a view of the whole thing from one position. It is enclosed in black steel beams and glass; and a vast, complicated network of tubes is how people enter and move throughout it.
I’m in the ship, it looks like someone’s house that I know but I can’t remember who. There are books everywhere, but they’re old and they don’t seem to have the language book I want. I take my leave and start back down the mountain again. This is a long hike home and I do it everyday. I contemplate the ark-school for a while and realize it is so massive and stationed high on the hill in preparation for the flood the that will surely come and wipe us out one day. ♨