Makyo in My Mind
hallucinations of the unconscious eye
Other half of my short life
In short story form
Saturday, June 25, 2005
Along the Bottom
I'm at a tiny video store, the kind with all the movies you never heard of. Two titles catch my mind. THE ENDEVEROR or something similar. I catch the end of the second one in my mind: a brute human mutant in the top room of a house, which is being eaten side-by-side by a huge monster. To call the human an appetizer for this thing would be an exaggeration. The human has a curved metal rod that he swings golf-like up into the monster's lower jaw. Blood everywhere.
I lose my vision. I'm again staring at the two video boxes on the bottom shelf near the floor. It seemed so familiar. I look at the back of the first box and see some scenes I recognize. People living in some desert wasteland town, driving rusty old cars. Assumably from a low-budget film I once saw, but more likely from a previous dream. I can hear Matt's voice now, going "that's awesome" to some low budget scenes. The second one looks well-made, though, so I pick it up and start to watch it at his place.
I stay with the protagonists of the film for a while. They're obnoxious young guys, and the main mutant guy hasn't mutated yet. He's pretty reluctant to fill his role. I imitate his move from the movie by swinging a golf club into a television set, breaking it. Guess noone's watching any movies now.
Soaking wet, I enter a bedroom that should belong to grandma. Green everywhere. Dusty, uncomfortable linens. I sit down on the bed. I have to pee. I figure I'm already getting water everywhere that I'll just go here, so I do. I piss forever, and it starts to make a small river down the carpet past the doorway. I close it a little from where I'm sitting so noone will see.
The supersonic jet I'm in lands on an airfield in prehistoric Australia. There's a single human colony there, and I'm visiting. The settlers have forgotten their so-called past heritage and have adapted to prehistoric life--with the exception of supersonic jets passing through every now and then. The younger generation doesn't even know what technology is. They follow me around everywhere to hear my stories.
I run into MP. Don't know whether she lives here or is just visiting. We walk around. Everything is green for as far as I can see. Untouched. I explain how where I come from, all of this is populated with people, and how people keep cutting down all the forests even though we need them to breathe. She asks if I've ever been to Australia, and I admit no, I haven't, but I have friends there.
Walking along some trails, we come upon some fenced-off areas with yellow signs written in an alien language. Some sort of "keep out" deal. MP points to some shacks beyond one fence. A body rests in a casual sitting position, back turned to us, dead. I assume everything there is dead, but then I see some legs moving. I decide to leave.
I get back on the jet. Some kids come with me. Before I know it, I'm off into space staring at the Earth, Australia a green speck rotating off around the globe, the globe a translucent black pearl hanging in the void. I don't really want to go.
One of the kids starts to open a bottle of wine. I say no, but it's too late. Fortunately there is simulated gravity in the jet, and it all just empties into the swimming pool. I tell him it's a waste of oxygen. I hold my breath and go under the water for a bit. Some General comes by to evaluate us. I ignore him to take another dive into the pool, scraping the left side of my face along the bottom.
Faith is spiritualized imagination.
Henry Ward Beecher- Posters.
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