sometimes it helps me to imagine that i am a dream someone else is having.
i don't mean that i'm the content of the dream, like the dream is [i]about[/i] me; but rather i'm the electrical processes someone else experiences as nighttime visions. so when i lift my hand to point to antelope greg and say 'i'm glad i'm not that person, there's something desperate about all that,' someone named mimitch or frabway or agrombeaux sees herself inside a car that's attached to the outside of a building that's upside down on the inside of a great planet-sized box that's sitting on the bottom of a dog-sized barrel (barrel-sized, i guess?) that's floating down the aorta of a child who might someday be president, or might not, who knows.
or when i'm dancing and the music is really tremendous and i'm able to be really grateful for my own life and not think about anyone else's very real and serious mental problems, and i cast my eyes upward which is this sort of universal acknowledgment of felt immensity -- they don't come more atheist than me but christ there's something about looking up -- in that instant maybe agrombeaux gets an inkling that his boss is in the room but she's a horse; or frabway will later remember crumpling up a newspaper dated 9/11/01 but no matter how much she crumpled she couldn't make the images of death go away; or mimitch experiences that lower-abdominal rush of falling, terror, and looking down she or he can see the mouth of god-earth opening up all fire and light within and maybe he or she thinks 'i've never been alone in this life and that's the blessing.'
that would be alright, to be someone's dream; and alright too to know it, to shape that dream, to turn someone's nighttime light into blue music and the remembered taste of love in its dying moments; i'd be ok with it if it were that way, but something tells me: it's just not that complicated.
