in them i was watching two boys on skateboards running from a gang. the smaller boy was captured and as the gang proceeded to beat him up, i became the older boy and slid down the snowy hill to save him. i fought all but three of the gang members. those three ran off somewhere, ran off into the woods and i followed them, i followed them... i somehow knew the way to their hideout, i knew every single trapdoor, every single spider web, every single illusion that they created to keep people like me out. they had kidnapped my brother and i went to get him back. we lived on the side of a mountain... everywhere i went, i ran and just one slip could send me sprawling down the snowy cliff. the gang had this huge fort built at least 15 feet above the ground, all in the trees, while we had this dinky lil treehouse on the edge of the cliff.

then i was fighting with my husband because he wanted to kill my puppies, i tried to hit him with an icicle the size of a baseball bat but it slipped out of my hands...

i got my brother back, by the way.

i didn't get to sleep as quickly as i had hoped but then all was quiet when the rain fell. and i fell. asleep. it stormed through the night and the wind and lightning have come back at this time to say hello, we are not gone... and in my house i am alone and in my underwear and a monmon shirt wondering what my hair would look like if i didn't wash it for seven days. the television is off and i have had breakfast but my stomach feels like it's not even there. can't marijuana do that? she says.

he called at a quarter to noon when i was half asleep trying to go back to dreaming. says he was thinkin about me... i think about him too...

a friend telling me he bought himself two bottles of wine because they're not as prone to alcoholism up north and he's only three years older than I. afraid of what i might find out if i get drunk, i claim abstinence from alcohol until i truly know how to have fun with it without tearing apart a generation of last namers... boast that my father and my brother suffer from the disease that fermented yeast brought upon them at an early age and i am not one to follow in my father's footsteps--- i shall make my own.

yet another dream, a dream about a giant who chased us off his island and into the water because "there were just so many of them" and we thought he would kill us. and we were taking up space on his island. he doesn't like the water, he only wanted his land back... i ate the watermelon rinds and chomped on the seeds while standing in the middle of the street almost getting hit by a yellow volkswagon beetle. "slug bug" he says. i win.

i don't wanna be a part of your "clique." i don't want nothin from your "web ring." i know where my reality is. my reality lies in the baseball games i go to and the movies i see and the concerts i mosh at and my reality lies at Starbucks because that's where i like to go. so sue me.