Dreaming
December 18th, 2007God, I want to get fucked.
I’ve wanted to get fucked all day. The littlest bits of skin are a tease. I am ravenous, tormented by the smell of food: the new-leather smell of some suit’s glove crossing my face on the subway, cheap perfume on the blonde in class. The winter air scrubs my cheeks to chap but inside I’m burning up, I’m moving so fast. Every time I blink I am shocked to see life reeling by in slow-motion.
I can’t sit still. Like a cat I’m vibrating, every muscle wound and waiting for the spring, and when I go to check myself from leaping, I find my hands dangling by my sides. Blink.
I wake up in the morning. Brush my teeth. Smear yesterday’s makeup from my eyes. Shove my feet in one of my two pairs of sneakers, both of which have been featured in porn during better days, and trip onto the sleet-cold street. I’m poised to run a race and none of the spectators seem to notice. Blink.
When you’re awake, and you can’t move a muscle, who’s to say you’re not still dreaming?
The Artist is away. The Professor is a bad idea. I want to sink my teeth into someone tonight and make them scream. I think about hurting a man until he gets angry, until he snaps, and I wonder if I could even do that — could hurt someone so much, or could provoke him rather than take him under. I wonder what a man does when he’s angry. Would he would beat me, or fuck me, or just leave? I’m not interested in annoyance. I want violent anger, spectacular in its fury.
You should ask for things, a girl told me the other day. I don’t know. I only want so much because nothing satisfies. I’m hungry because what I’m lapping up doesn’t sustain me. Maybe it’s not sex I want after all.
Maybe I should wait. Sleep. Wake up from this molasses-slow moment.
Inside I am holding on so tight I’m trembling. I can barely understand how everything is all right, how the world is not burning and the skies screaming, when I need need need so badly. This pageant of work, bills, school must be someone else’s life.
Surely I’m caught dreaming, and any second now I’m going to wake up with a gasp.
December 18th, 2007 at 7:45 pm
I know the feeling - when your breathings arrhythmic and your heart sputters like an old time-piece in severe need of a tune up. When your mouth waters at dirty thoughts and the only thing that keeps you grounded in the moment is the fear that some of that saliva might be finding it’s way to your desk, because it sure as hell isn’t whatever it is you should be focusing on at the moment. Your eyes feebly pace over the same half a page countless times without you soaking up any knowledge whatsoever because you’re obviously elsewhere. In fact, I’m feeling that way right this minute…haha.
December 18th, 2007 at 8:08 pm
December 19th, 2007 at 7:26 am
Bad idea… why?
December 19th, 2007 at 8:26 am
or… hurray! i’m a bad idea. finally i can shed my tweed blazer and academic sensibility.
December 19th, 2007 at 10:55 am
There are moments when I crave the same intensity. It comes and goes and comes, and comes.
December 19th, 2007 at 2:09 pm
Will - Thanks for cracking me up. What a sig line…
Professor - If you insist on answering to that, I’m going to call you that. But, uh … if you actually want me to take a bite out of you, I totally can!
Jane - That’s how I feel about it. Today is a quieter day.
December 30th, 2007 at 11:33 am
When you’re awake, and you can’t move a muscle, who’s to say you’re not still dreaming?
Sleep Paralysis
Not uncommon, linked with hallucinatory episodes, often a liminal state. Likely source of alien abduction fantasies, btw.
Oddly, I’ve been in quite the exact opposite state of this recently.