It is very rare that I don’t have a detailed, complex dream. I usually remember it for a few minutes as I’m waking up, but can’t hold onto it for longer than it takes to walk my dog, so you don’t hear about it. Occasionally, I get one of those dreams that I know is just going to throw off my entire day until I talk about it. This is one of those dreams:

The first thing that I can remember is being in the parking lot of a decrepit shopping plaza. The kind of place you’d find in any old mill town. It had the requisite pharmacy, the homeless man drinking from the brown paper bag. Not a BMW or Mercedes Benz anywhere in sight.

I was with a guy who was much younger than me. We were walking through the parking lot towards the end of the complex. The last part of the building was this gigantic concrete tunnel that sloped into the depths of the earth. It was way too big to be a subway entrance. The kids who were all hanging around smelled of skate park, but that isn’t what it was either. We walked to the bottom where the ticket and concession stand was. There was also an area to rent skis. The only thing open was the concession stand. I eventually realized that on weekends, they coat the bottom of the tunnel with snow and make an artificial ski run. During the week, the skateboarders use it for tricks.

I excuse myself to use the bathroom, which is just as you expect it. Toilet paper stuck to the floor, comments and numbers scraped into every surface. Rust and mold line the sinks and toilets.

I came out and the guy I was there with was sitting off to the side sipping a soda. We were about to leave when this girl a little older than his age walks over to us. In one surrealistic, bold move, she walks over to the guy I was with and locks lips in a long, slow kiss. It is something that I don’t feel is going to end soon, so I take his soda and walk to the other side and sit at a table. To my surprise, I don’t feel anything. I watch and wait for them to finish.

She walked away from him, and across the slope to where I was sitting. Then she reenacted the whole scene with me. It was intense, but in no way passionate. Emotionless, as was the whole scene. When she was finished, she turned and walked out. Not a word was said. The guy I was with and I got up simultaneously and walked out together as if nothing unusual had happened.

We got into his car and started driving. We still didn’t speak. I saw another concrete slope void of snow and wondered why I hadn’t noticed these places before. This one wasn’t covered like the other, and again, there were kids just hanging out. It seems unsurprising now, as does everything. And I feel like it should rain.

We walk into the oceanside house. It belongs to his father. They are there vacationing. We enter the kitchen. He leans in and kisses me. Long and slow, but still without passion. While we are kissing, he removes my jacket. His sister walks into the room. He hangs up my jacket, and she gets a bowl of cereal. We are sitting at the table. She is eating, he is reading a magazine, and I am starring out at the ocean, mesmerized by the waves. No one is talking. I have this need to give his sister the kiss. I’d say it was a desire, or an urge, but there was no emotion behind it. Almost like it is just instinctual for survival.

Their father walks in. He is only a few years older than I am. His hair is short and peppered with gray. He is well dressed. And unlike everyone else, he speaks. He tells me that he is an economics professor in NYC. He hands me his card. I distinctly remember looking at it intensely. The title on it says NSY Teacher and I can’t figure out what NSY stands for. It also has his name. I recognize that he also works as an economist for NPR’s Marketplace. He confirms it.

He tells us all that he is headed to the gym. He is going to drop me off on his way there. The brother and sister are ignoring both of us, and it is obvious that they are done with me. The father leans in close and stares into my eyes. In slow motion, I pull his lips into mine and we share the kiss. Again it is long and slow, but there is something else there that was missing before. I take off my shirt. He is now in the same trance as the rest of us. As he carries me up the stairs, he says back to the kids, “I’m going to the gym now.”

When I’m awake I realize that their father is looking in my eyes because he can see that I am high. I began to wonder in the dream if this is what ecstacy feels like. In my dream, E is some strange airborne virus that can be transmitted by kissing. And once you get it, you want to give it to others. The whole thing was extremely surreal and for some reason has disturbed me much more than any of my crazier, recent dreams.


2 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Calandria on February 26, 2007 at 7:45 pm

    K., K., K. Have you considered writing science fiction?


  2. Posted by raver intern on February 26, 2007 at 8:14 pm

    No, the passion is there when you’re on E. I hear.


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