Pain is a cancor sore on my right cheek
it hits me like a splash of light when I brush my teeth.
Why oh Why oh Why oh Why did I buy that toothbrush with the tongue scrubber on the back?
Like oil prices, pain races to my brain unexpected and devastating
And simmers down slow despite how much I want it to just go away.
Like my heartbeat after seeing a beautiful barista: so fast,
but I want to slow slow
slow down.
So as to enjoy every
moment.
or maybe that’s the coffee…
Cancor sores stay with you for weeks growing bigger every day until you just can’t stand it any more.
Then it pauses at the threshold of pain as if to say, “never forget me.”
And I won’t. Dear God I won’t. At least whenever I eat a ketchup drenched burger
or a bowl of spaghetti.
The cancor snarls at the acid, but I pour it on anyway. I’ll not let nature decide what I can’t eat.
No sore is the master of my mouth. Except
when I brush my teeth.
The rough ridges of the tongue scrubber scrub the wrong part of my right cheek.
That is when the tears finally arrive.
So…. I haven’t written in a good long while. Sorry about that all you faithful ITWAGBF readers out there (all 2 of you).
Anywho, a friend of mine recently posted about one of her dreams on her blog. It’s a common occurance, but, nevertheless, it inspired me to recount one of mine that I had recently. The fact that I remember it is really quite amazing because this rarely happens.
A couple of notes before we begin:
1.)I always dream in color.
2.)I always dream in the 3rd person. (I remember in the 3rd person, as well. I don’t know if this is common, but I’ve always thought it weird.)
3.)”Me” in the story does not always look like me.
Anyways, the dream began with me and a group of people I didn’t know going into a theme park. But this theme park turned out to be a cross between Jurassic Park, the island from Lost, and the underwater empire of Bioshock, Rapture. Basically it was somewhat jungley, full of deteriorating equipment, dangerous creatures (including dinosaurs), and 2 factions of people out to kill each other.
Anyways I got separated from my group and kidnapped by the “bad” faction of people along with the “good” faction’s leader and a bunch of others. These were all denoted by their orange jump suits and the “bad” guys had blue jump suits. We were all in this compound which reminded me a lot of an open air version of the bunker from Lost. Suddenly, several of us escaped, including the leader and I, and we booked it into the jungle towards the other faction’s compound (which was sort of a long, large, and underground pipe). Once there I met someone I recognized from the first group I entered the park with, and realized I knew her from way back when (she looked a bit like this girl I knew from college, Emily). I also realized I was desperately in love with her. But, before we could talk, I found out the leader was set to bomb the other compound and I thought, “That’s stupid, his people are still there.” So I ran off towards it, and I got there just in time to see the explosions and people running out wearing both blue and orange jumpsuits. I thought that it was lucky that nobody got hurt by this stupid maneuver. And, suddenly, I decided to run into the compound that was exploding.
Inside it was chaos. People were running around everywhere and things were exploding all over the place. I ran to a platform where the “bad” faction’s leader was and quickly jumped on it as it descended underground (it turns out it was a freight elevator). As I stood up, everybody realized that I was actually the son of the other leader. (at this point I should tell you that now everybody is wearing normal clothes). Both my “dad” and my “mom” were glad to see me, and this was the reason why I decided to go into the compound rather than back into the jungle.
Once we were underground the chaos continued and my parents and I decided to run out of there and try to quickly escape the theme park before the whole compound fell apart. My “dad” said he knew where the “flattrack” was and we could use that to escape. “The flattrack?” I asked, “Isn’t that a myth?”
“No,” he said, “It’s been lost for centuries, but I know where it is.” And then we proceeded to run through various rooms and tunnels full of old and dirty cafeteria equipment (dirty dishes and trays, mostly). Each door we ran to we closed behind us, and I would pick up a metal bar and fit it into the conveniently placed notches attached to the door and then bend it around so nobody could remove it. This is when I realized that my dad was Superman and I was Superboy.
We ran around with several people until we reached the top of a parking deck. The people around us were looking for cars to break into and escape with, and my “dad” was trying to run through to get to the flattrack. I hung back and decided to reveal my Superboyness to several people. I did this by opening my shirt in the classic superman style. They all looked at me in astonishment “You’re Superboy?” And I smiled and started to float. And then one of them said, “Wait. You could fly all this time and you didn’t tell us?” And I said, “Oh yeah! I forgot. Why don’t you get in one of the cars and I can fly us out of here.”
This is when I disappear from my dream and, instead, my dream is now about groups of people in cars escaping from the parking deck. They drive down into the lower level and out to a large door which slides open, only to reveal another door, and then another door, and then a final door which doesn’t open right away but does after the cars wait for a little bit. This final door opens up to a department store and one by one the cars all escape out into the street while some construction workers in the front of the store all stare in awe. One guy lingers in the store for a bit and hands one of the construction workers a coin out of gratitude. The coin is like a quarter made of bronze except George Washington is a Native American and the words “Not for Reproduction” are printed on it. Then the last guy to linger in the store is another Native American who’s wearing a head dress except instead of it being made out of feathers, this one is made of leaves. The construction worker turns to him and says, “You’re a funny looking guy.” And the Native American laughs and nods.
And then I woke up.
That’s it. I hope that wasn’t too long or crazy for you.
