Dreams

Osanna - Palepoli
1973; Italian; Progressive rock; A mesh of some fun and well-crafted sound dimensions
http://www.mediafire.com/?mmmtjnyvmd2

Near my Gramp's house,
I'm walking my bike down a ragged country road, greens and browns of nature bleached lifeless by sunlight. Beyond the intersections and abandoned homes, a walkway bends between a field of wheat and a tall white shed. The trail is swallowed by wild trees and bushes, becoming what resembles nature, untouched.

In my Gramp's house,
I am deflected from room to room, orbiting the house until I find sanctuary in the den;
Propped guitars resting beneath a galaxy of plastic war planes. A relief washes over, accompanied by a sadness. Once I am safe, I sneak through the garage and leave. The lights turn on behind me and black cars drive up his Olympic sloping driveway. My body knows a trance of superhuman panic. Muscles fail to ache in the violence of my escape. It would take days to bike home, but I reach the streets near my home by morning.

Standing at a crosswalk,
I walk toward her school feeling uneasy. Inside, I can't find her but my body tells me I'm a Freshman again. I attempt a few classes but find myself dodging staff and students to stow away in the bathroom. It's night time and no one can find me, I walk downstairs and the cafe is full of people, teachers, talking at distant lunch tables. I make way passed the gym and into the locker rooms, seeing the back exit's morning light split black fissures among the cement water-stained floor. Other kids are beginning to enter the locker rooms and I can't make my escape. When I find the door everyone has seen me, and make haste. Running through fields, leaping into the tattered woods, losing lung capacity each time a car slows down in my presence. When the last branch breaks I flood down the hills behind apartments that neighbor mine. It's day, and new lakes have sprung all around my complex. The streets are an endless maze, with ruined stone walls blocking the main road. It's night, and I'm falling from crumbling pillars, bike gnarled and deformed.

I don't know who I'm running from, or why,
but I see a tube connecting to a secret bedroom in this nice old man's house
it's perfectly transparent, but he told me I would be safe upstairs, if I stayed in bed and didn't move. I asked him if I could read, and he told me he would have to inform them for every page I read, and that I was allotted four pages per three hours.

Twilight,
I'm following someone down a grassy field between apartments. They're watching balloons drift into the sky. My balloons are tied to my hand, but the string keeps getting longer. The ends of the balloons get heavy, and start tugging me along with the clouds. I wake up, and it's the same dark day/bright night as before. I look out my balcony and life is ending on the other side of the forest. The trees were slouching into the epicenter of this catastrophe, as aircrafts simply ceased to operate in the sky. I'm reaching to the top of my closet for my most prized possessions but they are already gone. No one is home; I'm worried. Someone's home, I need to get out. The staircases are bright and bottomless, sun glaring and contorting into night, walls still bright as lit by the ceiling. My eyes won't make up their mind and people are coming in. They can't see me and it's too late, if I move they'll think I'm hiding. If they think I'm hiding it's all over. I open my door from outside and pretend to be coming out of it. I walk down the hall and they stare at me. When I get outside it's hard to walk, cars keep driving in my way, intentionally slowing down.

I'm in the grocery store,
I'm stealing sushi from the buffet. The room is crowded and no one notices. My sisters and grandma are somewhere, I walk around in circles looking for them, finding them, losing them. I start looking at games behind glass cases. I leave. I'm in the gamestore, but it's closed. I'm picking up everything I want, prepared not to pay. They catch me looking through boxes in their house, I put the games back and tell them I can't buy till next week. I'm in Blockbuster. They have nothing, walls are barren and almost everything is gone. It still has that smell, a specific fragrance you could only know growing up in the 90s, but the air is unwelcoming, as if the store itself was ashamed.

~Some dreams of mine