5.7
Million
It’s
8:15 a.m., Sunday morning and I am typing, trying to express what I saw/felt in
my dreams. The first thing I dreamt was
that I opened one of my Student Loan notes for payment to learn, with interest
and penalties, I owed 5.7 million dollars and they wanted a payment of $30,000 +/- so I sent them a check for
$25 in a money order. I dropped a stamp
then sent it off in the mail.
I
went to sleep around 2:00 a.m., the last thing on my mind being a portrait of
Joan Crawford after seeing the special, “Secrets of the Will”, and seeing what
happened to her family. Super sad &
creepy too.
My
first dream was about someone I miss/missed a great deal. She was reentering my life (which is in the realm of TOTAL fiction) even
though several years have passed. She
told me she wasn’t leaving her home but she’d meet me in the middle of both our
places. She had actually come to my home
and visited my family, who all took to her quite easily, liking her
immediately. We kept finding ourselves
outdoors, surrounded by large trees and open woods. I found myself kissing her again, holding
her, amazed she hadn’t aged, changed or differed in any way since the last time
I laid eyes on her gorgeous figure.
The next thing that I remember
is being in a shelter/gym/mall situation with a group of kids/teens due to some
occurrence for us to congregate. Maybe I
was a leader, I don’t remember, but everyone was dressed for summer: shorts,
t-shirts, flip-flops, bikini tops and the like.
I didn’t question it nor do I remember anyone eating anything but that’s
what was going on at that moment. Now
that night I was sleeping in my mattress, when a busty brunette with big hair
came onto the edge, wearing a t-shirt, shaking me gently, whispering, “Can I
stay here?”
She reminded me of Vanessa Del
Rio and Lisa Ann in the same breath with a hint of color on her skin, but not
as old. She was in her early 30’s when I
first saw her in action so this was a younger woman/version of her. (In
fact, she kinda looked like this young internet model.)
“Sure”, I mumbled, and turned my
back to her. We were ass to ass, and I
was trying to give her space so she could relax. Suddenly, a hand came to my shoulder, and I
heard, “That’s not what I meant.”
So I turned over, and she had
her back to me. I spooned her, placing
one hand over her stomach, stroking it and feeling her belly through her
t-shirt. She wiggled, and then moved
closer, keeping me pressed tight to her body.
I kissed the back of her neck, and she rolled over, one knee atop the
other, smiling at me in the darkness. I
looked down at her, and she smiled back.
I felt my body moving closer, my waist working to spread her thighs,
kissing her chin and her eyes fluttered.
She whispered, “That’s what I meant.”
“Really?” I could feel my cock slipping between her
cheeks, then up along her thigh and slowly into the sweet spot that made her
eyes flutter again, her smile widen and her breast start heaving as she let her
t-shirt ride up, baring the perfect hard nipples to me, which disappeared into
darkness as I fell face-down to lick/suck them.
(And anyone who knows me knows I am a breast man.)
I awoke briefly to barking dogs,
as there has been a goat loose nearby and it’s neck-bell makes a clanging
sound, so I rose, opened the door to my shanty and let them loose, allowing
them to bark all they pleased. Before I
slipped and arose to release the dogs, I thought she said, “You won’t let anyone else cum in me will you?”
I
don’t know why but for some reason … maybe it’s my hidden perversions but I felt it was something akin to maybe
a bisexual reference or an orgy idea/ideal/condom use. Totally unsure but something I registered in
my head. Either way she was smiling and
that was enough for me.
I
finally arose around 8:00 a.m. and have been sitting here ever since, editing,
rewriting, sipping coffee, feeding dogs, occasionally looking for internet porn
and checking e-mails. I can’t say dreams
mean nothing, and I can’t honestly say I can translate them as they’re personal
to our own fears and desires, emotions and failings. Failure is someone I am familiar with like my
own Shadow; in fact, I think he is a Shadow, a sense of all I could be or all I
could have been, and am still trying to capture even at this age, at this time.
It’s
11:30 p.m. and I have work in the morning.
I’ve got to steam my slacks and a shirt, polish my shoes and make sure I
shave and have my morning coffee. I am
supposed to do the announcements in the morning, as I am taking the place of
the student council sponsor who also teaches Algebra and Geometry at the middle
school I’ll be at in the morning.
I just recently acquired a case of Mr. Pibb (which is called Pibb Xtra) from a friend of mine who just wanted to bitch about the good old days.
“You Give Good Love” and “Saving
All My Love for You”, made an impression on me and I had a slight crush on the
former-model-turned-songstress. A while
later while working downtown, as my taste turned to metal and punk around my
friends, I still crushed on Whitney, buying her second album in 1987 where I
would also buy bootlegs of concerts and filters for a bong I shared occasionally
with a friend of mine who worked downtown with me. She giggled that I listened to Whitney and
Rick Astley, and enjoyed Motley Crüe and Poison with her, trying not to be
pegged into one genre.
As I read “American Psycho”, I
loved the diatribes/thoughts by Patrick Bateman on Whitney’s first album, then
on life in general before chopping people to bits. (I don’t know why but I always saw Casper Van
Diem in the role which was made amazing by Christian Bale. You go over-the-top, get him!) I wish I could go that deep into lunacy some
days.
Somewhere along the way she
married Bobbie Brown, who’s claim to fame was a tour called “Humping Around the
World”. She also gained a drug
addiction, a horrible marriage, and a lifestyle that would make Hunter Thompson
wince. It made me sad and I shelved all
my old feelings for Whitney.
It’s
8:15 a.m., Sunday morning and I am typing, trying to express what I saw/felt in
my dreams. The first thing I dreamt was
that I opened one of my Student Loan notes for payment to learn, with interest
and penalties, I owed 5.7 million dollars and they wanted a payment of $30,000 +/- so I sent them a check for
$25 in a money order. I dropped a stamp
then sent it off in the mail.
“Sure”, I mumbled, and turned my
back to her. We were ass to ass, and I
was trying to give her space so she could relax. Suddenly, a hand came to my shoulder, and I
heard, “That’s not what I meant.” 
