5:55 p.m. - January 19, 2002
winged and distorted
this dream which I can remember surprisingly vividly..

a lover. with wings. and a little purple cat. We were sitting at an old-fashioned playground smoking delicious grass out of a glass-blown pipe, tiny and perfect, just the size of my pinky finger, so each time we passed it, I could taste the tangy spot where his lips had been. and so. and so. after many many years he picked me up under my arms, like a child, and flew to a little room, where the trees grew at an alarming rate. I knelt by a little tree whose tiny branches spanned maybe the width of my palm, and I said, 'Hello, little tree. Would you like to grow to be big and strong?" and before I had finished speaking, the tree was fifty feet high, towering over my head, and laughing as it lifted a shoe-like root and speared the seat of my pants with it, pulling back and hurling me high in the air.
however, my winged lover caught me, deposited me gently in someone's backyard. it was my friend's backyard. there was a girl with cornrowed hair in my friend' backyard, throwing condoms at his upstairs window and yelling, "please have sex with me! please have sex with me!" and all the while my friend ignored her. i looked at the girl, saying that maybe she should try the flavored ones; he's a sucker for taste, and I went round to the front and knocked on his door.
"Come in, come in," he said frantically, pulling me in by the sleeve of my shirt. "there's a psycho in my backyard demanding that I fuck her and I don't know what to do."
"You know, I think she might be in my Spanish class," I mused, but he pulled me upstairs to have a look from his window. The girl (who was not in my Spanish class) continued to throw the condoms and yell. They smacked against his window pane. She had a ladder. She had a what? The purple cat, which my winged lover had left behind, rubbed against my legs and purred, sharpening its claws on my friend's bed. The girl began to climb the ladder.
"oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh," gabbled my friend as he raced around in circles. "she's coming she's coming she's coming." and suddenly, stupidly, he stripped his clothes off and jumped into the shower, pulling the curtain shut before I could even blink, or before i could tell him that getting naked right before your potential rapist climbs a ladder to your room maybe isn't such a good idea.
The girl appeared in the window. She stepped inside. her shoes were blue and glittery, her eyelids were blue and glittery, her necklaces were silver and glittery, and her eyes were a flat black. "where's he gone?" she asked, just as my friend's parents walked into the room.
"maybe you guys should play outside," they suggested, calmly enough, considering the fact that suddenly the girl and I were both naked as well. i am always naked in dreams. i hate that. my friend emerged from the shower, wearing pants. "i'm not going to fuck you," he said, to me.
"why are you saying that to me?" I asked him. "I don't want to fuck you."
"maybe you should play outside," said the poor parents again.
just then, my winged lover came back and picked up his purple cat, put it inside his cloak. He picked me up under my arms again. He was silent, but we all heard him say, "she doesn't want to fuck YOU." he winked. he blew a cloud of white, sweet-smelling smoke into the room. my friend closed his eyes and inhaled. i kissed them both. the girl had disappeared. i was still naked. the room held its breath as the smoke swirled and curled and expanded and enveloped the whole room in blank whiteness, which was the sun in my own room streaming through the windows onto my pillow.

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