Ectothermal

Arrowheads :: Hitting a Cop :: Red Construction Paper Hearts

"Somebody made this arrowhead. It had a creator long ago. This arrowhead is the only proof of his existence. Living things can also be seen as artifacts, designed for a purpose. So perhaps the human artifact had a creator. Perhaps a stranded space traveler needed the human vessel to continue his journey, and he made it for that purpose ? he died before he could use it ? He found another escape route ? This artifact , shaped to fill a forgotten need, now has no more meaning or purpose than this arrowhead without the arrow, and the bow, the arm and the eye. Or perhaps, the human artifact was the creator's last card, played in an old game many light-years ago. Chill of empty space…" -William Burroughs, The Place of Dead Roads

Last night I dreamed one of my brothers was a police officer. I had a run of bad luck and needed to move in with him until I could get back on my feet. Unfortunately, he didn't have a spare bedroom, so I was staying in his living room.

It became clear pretty quickly that my brother didn't trust me. He kept watching me, even sneaking into the living room in the middle of the night to watch me sleep. Naturally, I began to feel really oppressed.

Finally, I flipped out and started yelling at him, "You're waiting for me to break the law, so here you go, how about assaulting the police?" And I punched him.

He started yelling at me; I don't remember exactly what he was saying.

The dream most likely echoes my general feeling that I have a pretty nasty reputation with my family. I am distant. I refuse their offers to pay for me to fly back home to visit them. What can I say? It's true. I am distant because I feel distant. They continue to try to get me to reconnect certain familial elements, but those feelings are gone, and I won't pretend I can rekindle them. Being honest about this feeling is far, far more offensive to them than lying to them would be, but I won't be pressured in that way.

I also remember a part of another dream I had last night. I dreamed that a former friend of mine, Dan, had killed someone. A woman I think. The circumstances were peculiar, and it seemed pretty clear that this was a mercy killing, or an accident. Whatever it was, it didn't warrant the long sentence he received.

I was going to visit him in prison, but before I did, I stopped at his apartment to pick up his mail for him. His sister had sent him a homemade card, with hearts cut out of red construction paper, and pictures of their family dog (a yellow lab?) inside each of the hearts.

"I can't bring this to him," I thought. "That dog will be long dead before he gets out of prison. It will be too depressing for him." When I left his apartment I was suddenly back in my home town, walking away from the intersection near where I grew up. I was walking toward the main road. A train was gliding slowly through town, interrupting traffic. I didn't know where the prison was.

I was still carrying the card with the red construction paper hearts.

posted by Ecto Thermal @ 8:32 PM