Monday, May 18, 2009


I was watching a lesbian movie—two women in the desert loving each other. I think—must be Desert Hearts, and it is. I am watching the movie with my mother and wondering why because there is a lesbian love scene and I don’t want my mother to see it. I leave, hoping my mother will leave too, and she does. I go to the bathroom, and the floor is covered with seaweed, and the toilet is gross, as though it has flooded with the ocean. I try to fix the toilet. I lift it, and it is suddenly cleaved into two perfect pieces, and the water in the top portion collapses onto the floor when I touch it. [Dream time shifts] My father is with me, and he asks—Do you want to see where I hide my things? It is the safest place in the world. We drove into violent white rushing water, and my father opens his car door. Somehow, we are not soaked by the water. I cannot feel the water. He reaches into the water and I can suddenly see into another car. There is another car under the flood waters and it is locked into place. My father looks at me and says—This is the safest place I could find. I look at his treasures and I see old, ragged, tattered books, carefully placed on a makeshift shelf hammered on the dashboard. How sad, I think, these are all he has, and they will be swept away. This place is not safe.

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