Thursday, June 19, 2008

failed activism, dream, and saying hello to the angels

i was at the ol' SACford the other day, walking on the molten surface that is downtown San Antonio. as i headed across the street i nearly got hit by a car after reading the front of a building that was covered in streamers, paper flowers, golden cutouts and chain. the sign screamed:

Fiesta is Cultural Murder!
Who Do They Think They ARE?!

i walked on. befuddled and a little amused. i came to the follwing conclusion. college kids are idiots.
they grasp and claw and cry out for change, acceptance and a different life. in all they just seem to make mine more annoying. fiesta is fiesta, it means something to our city and just cause you cant get a date to the carnival doesnt mean you have the right to be bitter for no good reason. geez.
so college kids please please please. think.
not everything needs saving.
not everything is a scandal.

that is all.

its too hot for words today people. and this nocturnal animal is up way too goddamn early. i guess i have to make up for sleeping the whole day away yesterday. must be those new pillows. oh i love them.

dream from yesterday:
[im in a waiting room]
there are so many people in here. it smells funny and its hard to move. a man in the far corner of the room waves at something. he has this blank ugly look on his face. his other hand shakes down by his side. tears start to roll down his cheeks. i wave back, maybe its what he needs?
i look away.
the woman next to me starts to make little squeaking noises. i think shes breast feeding. but i dont see a baby. um. she has her face turned away from me but i notice lines that tell me shes smiling. at least someone in this place is happy.
under my feet something skitters and then pops as i apply deadly pressure. my heart. oh its beating faster now. what am i waiting for? the little paper in my hand only tells me that im 45 away from being called.
i start to wish i was i had super human powers.
i need to get out of here. i dont think i need what im waiting for. i stand up and swim through the people blocking my way to the door. every person i pass touches me, pulls at me or says something i dont hear.
i step outside. the air that slaps me in the face is cold and sharp, like it was just released, just made, brand new.
im in the inner part of the city. the buildings are too high, and they have nothing in them. i can see through the windows and i see that theyre only shells. its a ghost town on a movie set and im fucking stuck in the act.
i look down.
at my feet a small baby something is twitching by my shoes, reaching for me with things that arent quite hands. its lying in a pool or sweat and pink goo.
yea, im gonna throw up.
im running now, throwing open windows, kicking down doors, and finally i lay down on a sidewalk.
the sky shifts and the blue goes to green goes to purple goes to black.
i wake up.
it was 10pm.
i woke up sore and hungry and dehydrated. but i had no intention of staying up.
i went back to sleep after eating and watching good eats.


i am.

-pleased with myself. for no reason.
-wondering if i could give a stranger a chance.
-looking for new outlets.
-eating rice krispies.
-alone. [perfect]
-standing as i type this.
-wondering why i dont talk to more people.
-anxious. there just feels like theres so much to do, and im stuck here without am idea of where to start.

its been a weird week.


No comments: