I am not flying. There is a couch in front of me. It is made of white leather and has no cushions. Above it, a street light casting a yellow cone of light over its nakedness. Below it, grass made ultramarine by a strange color theory.
I am in a hallway. It is the hallway of my freshman dorm. The walls are two-toned: white on top, maroon on bottom. The ceilings move towards me. The walls move away from me. I am walking.
There is a girl. Her name is Marie. We are sleeping together and all I see is her bare chest. She has my friend Martha’s face. I swing my legs off the bed. It has pink sheets. My legs find the floor, black, and I am in Samantha’s room. There are walls and pictures on the walls.
I am drinking a white liquid and there are also people in the room. Each-by-each they flash before of my face, a line up, a conveyor belt. I recognize none. There are only young women. I have slept with all of them. Some I do not know that I have slept with. Some I am going to sleep with. Most of them have yelled at me for sleeping with them then not sleeping with them. In many ways, they are right. In only one way, they are wrong. Now, Julie’s face pixilates and the room pixilates with her. There are sounds and music and voices in the room. Everyone wears their favorite outfits. Forms blend together, the darkness separating the figures shifting from blocks into slivers and then they are all one.
The word euphemism runs like a stock price along what is the top of the walls.
This is a nightmare.
I am as thin as the sweep hand of a watch, long as a fat man’s belt, and I am flying. The world flies below me and I see rooftops of country buildings forming country towns. Later, cities races past with honking horns and business casual suits. The places I have visited glow yellow.
Powder, procured from a fat man wearing no belt, is cut into long, blue lines on the marble counter in Laura’s New York apartment. The lights are dim and the curtains are drawn. I have kissed Laura on the face. There is very little furniture in this room. Music plays and I have picked the song, which is indecipherable at this point. Laura is dressed in a long grey dress with curls of cloth gathered around the armpits. Underneath she wears the matching black boys shorts and lace bra that she has worn in front of me before. She is wearing the black sleeping mask that she sleeps in. Her nose is running red. I am cutting the blue cocaine with my school ID, which has a picture of me from High School. In the picture I have a haircut from the barbershop in Lincoln.
In that barbershop they have the obligatory lollipops and Laura is sucking on one of these lollipops. A yellow one.
In my hand, I hold a yellow pad of paper. On it are written words but the words look like scribbles and are indecipherable. There is a white leather couch against the wall. The TV is off.
My mother is holding the baby version of me and smiling at a camera that someone I do not know is about to use on us. Behind my mother stands my father. His hair is dark. He wears a white sweater and my mother wears a yellow one over a white turtleneck.
A turtle is yelling at another turtle in a pond surrounded by birch trees. These woods are by my house in Lincoln. I am with Samantha who is wearing loose jeans and holding my hand. We have not had sex yet. She is talking but there is no sound in this scene. The water is blue with red tint, it is swirling around the arguing turtles but calm around us.
One of the world trade centers is crumbling and falling in on itself. This is projected on a large screen in the meetinghouse of my middle school. There are wooden chairs filling this meetinghouse. Along the walls run carved wooden seats that the seniors sit in. This scene is very vivid.
Laura is sitting at the end of my bed in only her matching black boy shorts and lace bra. She is waiting for me to kiss her, which I do not do. Samantha sits in the rocking chair to my left. She is playing with the sandals on her feet and looking concerned. Julie is standing by my window to the right. She is being interviewed for a magazine. She is wearing a big sweater and has very red hair.
Laura is lying below me and she is not wearing anything. She has Marie’s breasts but they are smaller on her. I am kissing her neck and she is saying something into my ear, which she never does. My hands pass over her thighs, which I have never felt. We are about to make love.
It is very bright in my bedroom. I am coughing and there is a buzzing in my head.
[I took the above image in Lincoln, Massachusetts in 2010]