Crush

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

i badly need to get this off my chest, then maybe that will soothe the furious pounding of my heart. i had three dreams in my long nap just now, or maybe it was one dream with three parts.

1.
We were sitting idle at someplace, i remember almost clearly that it was a bus stop, but that wouldn't have made sense. 'Sense' only appeals to our reality anyway, so we were at a bus stop. my gaze was transfixed onto a portion of space some diagonal distance away, before the high-rise buildings and interspersed trees. you were sitting on my right-hand side, fidgeting, anxious for my eyes to return to your face. i could see the thoughts running haphazardly in the enclosure of your mind, like blind frantic goldfishes trying to define the space behind the glass. after a moment almost too much to bear (i could feel the pressure of your expanding restlessness against my body), i turned to put my face parallel to yours. you inhaled sharply, winced, and slammed your lips against mine. we fell backwards and then i don't think we were at a bus stop anymore but what it felt like was clouds, couch, kitchen floor. i could feel the bulge of your hardened cock against my thigh. you murmured something like "don't move your tongue", so i lay, still as a corpse, and let my lips be crushed by your urgent kiss.

2.
We were pushing a trolley, a Carrefour trolley, mom dad sisters and me. we must have appeared very odd: five people pushing an empty trolley with deliberate slowness and timed, measured steps. we would not get very far. the tedium of our journey was saved by the utilization of a down-riding escalator. there was a vehement argument at the summit of the up-riding escalator on our left-hand side, i believe it was an altercation between a fifty-odd year old conservative flat- faced flat- haired Chinese lady and.... an unknown individual. a group of spectators crowded around them, it seemed typical yet oddly uncomfortable because the spectators were standing before the invisible line, encroaching the discreet space like they were part of the argument and were the ones responsible for how it plays out. we were the outsiders watching from the outside. we were not bothered. we walked on by.

3.
We were still pushing a trolley, i reckon it should be the same one, and there were smiles on our faces because we have just bought our groceries, except that there are no bags in our cart. we were approaching a down-riding escalator, i reckon it should be the same one, and the Chinese lady was still standing there with the crowd of people i reckon they should be the same ones. the Chinese lady was standing there coolly, there was no more argument, so i figured they must have moved on to a different activity because the people were moving and shifting. my mother said "don't look". i looked: coming up the escalator revealing itself i first saw a dangling string of red. dangling intestines. spilled guts. there is the stomach and there is the liver, there is something that looks remotely like a heart. a few men(with 'smug' written all over their faces like a business well done) were carrying the dismembered body of an African man; he had no legs nor arms, what remained were the jagged ends of their stumps like it was crudely and savagely ripped off by sharks. then again i don't know how i knew he was African; he didn't have a head. we took the down-riding escalator. my mother reminded me to study.

she's not here @

7:23 PM