Dream 6

The darkness fills my pupils. I don't know where I am running but I know who I am running from. I drag my sister so she does not fall behind as we run. We climb a tall cupboard. It seems that the place metamorhosizes into an apartment. Recognizable space--grandfather's from father's side, i.e. the Roznovans. He stares at us from down there, with a piercing almoust hypnotic look filled with force. He waits for a second and then says "come down girls. Daddy won't hurt you. I'm just trying to cure you."

"no"

"listen, I'm just gonna inject this very quickly. It won't hurt!"

I look and I realize that the shot is just air. I know what that means.

I can't take it anymore. I know that he is old and he won't keep up. I decide to challenge him. I jump and run as fast as I can. I see everything is slow. I run.

He tries.

Chase.

Me.

Him.

Run outside. Trick him. Close the door. Lock it fast. Faster before he stops me. He is outside. I am inside.

After a while curiosity takes over. Why did it quiet down? Is he still there? What did he leave behind: his smell, a note, a shoe print, the still. And I decide to open the door and see. We see what we did not expect: he melted. The only thing left was a pile of cloth.

Suddenly, we receive a hundred calls at the same time. We choose not to answer. We listen to the voicemail. The calls were from european countries calling us so we could settle dad's dept or take his belongings etc.

A murder. I did it. No we did it. Me and him. No more separate. A one.

Dream 5

Beams of bright colored lights move swiftly through bodies. They take in and take out. The stuffy air sticks to the skin. The stream of consciousness is dulled by the everyday same. I came to get it out. The dance-- I knew, it would revers the charms, and instead of what I set out to be, I would be the human: the sweat, the language of the muscles, the smudged make up, the mess, the truth. The truth of the body. 

I melt into the rhythms. The brain hypnotized. The beat pulsating. The laser scanning. Lazer playing.

A tight grip around my waste. I feel the closeness that takes me. I smell bodies. A craze and I shake my head. I’m still dancing, but I feel like I’m about to be close to burning. It seems like I’m going to get to know you. I feel like I have to run again. Away, away, away, into my own space. 

My own space is dark and warm. It seems like mold could easily take roots in a place like this. But what else?


 I’m walking through a house I have never been in before. There  are so many floors, so suburban with that beige carpet I can’t stand. I notice some masses  in the distance. I get closer and I realize these are dismembered bodies at my feet. Flies crawl on the open flesh. I run. When I find myself close to the exit I enter another room. The final room seems to be a long and narrow conference room. There is no way to just slip out of the room. How? Im trapped. The door is a couple of steps away across the table, but in front of the door, at the head of the table sits my dad. He seems to be occupied with the meeting. 

My head hurts. He is the head of the table. How? Im trying to understand the secret of his head. I realize he knows the secret to life. That is why he has all these people listening to him. I can’t bear it anymore so I speak. “I know there are bodies upstairs. You are using them to replace your old body parts, so your time never runs out.” He smiles and continues on talking to the rest of the group that seems to be hypnotized. I scream: “NO. YOU LISTEN TO ME!” The men in suits at the table turn towards me. My father steps up to me and pulls me aside. He tells me to drink something. I refuse. He forces it down my throat. I choke. I grow. I deform. I’m not like everyone. Everyone sees me as another. Everyone does not believe my words anymore. Any more is a constant pain. Any more is too much. He tells me at the end “silly! you’ll always be a part of me. I have your liver.” 

The pain. 

Dream 4

I had a dream where I was a part of the fields and the fields where a part of me. I rose above the fields and I went.

A girl was leading me on. Her little body was sinking in the green of the tall grass. The top of the field was covered with thin golden glare as though the girl shed her hair everywhere she stepped.

I wanted to get to know her better. I wanted to become friends so I started a conversation. “Do you know how the sunset happens?” She said “No.” “It is quiet simple. You see when the moon spins all the way around” I took her finger to follow the movement of the moon “and it touches the sun, that’s when it sets.” And the sun started to step down from the celestial mass and gave more glows to the horizontal streaks of grass that met my eye.

Dream 3

Drunk and happy we run out of the elevator we race. Halloween, a masquerade! Everyone is wearing concealing attire—flashy and esoteric, escaping the reality, who they really are, embracing who they won’t to be.

black.

I have a fight with my boyfriend.

black.

Deep breath.

black.

The middle ages.
It’s a church ceremony in St. Peter’s Basilica. It’s the evening ceremony and during those we praise the devil. I hide in the crowd to not be noticed. The only reason I am there is because my husband is being persecuted. The priestess is wearing a long red robe with sparkling jewels. Her crimson hair is waving down her shoulders in sumptuous curls. I look in her direction and her fiery eyes return my gaze. She was looking at the white cardinal that was next to me, however, not at me. My heart stopped and jumped as though recharged when she laughed with an evil savor. She proclaimed into the crowd “Welcome, Cardinal!” and my mind cant think of nothing else but the power of her flesh-piercing fangs and the height of the marble columns. The cardinal is quiet. He came for me, and no other reason. He lowers his marble face to whisper something into my year. I look at him, at his majestic posture as well as his crystal white complexion. He trick is a sculpture that came to life.

When I wake up his whisper “Cross over to the good side!” still echoes in my mind.

Dream 2

I recollect I was inside a nightmare. My father came for me.

While I was sleeping on the old couch, everyone left the house. i was alone. Mother and sister gone. Where? I don't know. Why? For how long? Just silence in reply.

I can see myself. I am asleep stretched on the gray couch with silver patterns, the one bought and carried from my first home to the second one. The second one did not feel like home at all to me. It was just a living room and a balcony that became the children's room. The rest of the apartment was the common area for my drunken father and a 89 year old with amnesia and schizophrenia to share.

I know I am helpless in an empty house asleep. I feel it is not good. I watch the door to the two rooms belonging to us open slowly. His face appears and I get sick to my stomach. I don't know what to expect this time. I don't know what to feel--love or fear or pain. I see him approaching the couch. I need to wake up, but it is so quiet. I can't, my brain frozen in the depth of the unconscious. I am peacefully asleep but inside of me everything storms and turns dark. It's almost like I feel a spear piercing my heart and my stomach feels heavy.

My eyes unclasp slowly. I'm only squinting. It's too quiet in the room and there is only a glistening light reflected on the hard wood floor. Did he do something and leave? Is he still here? Is he hidden somewhere? I do not want to open my eyes completely and see him in front of me!

I wake up in the cold.

Dream 1

There is a warm baby in my hands. Small enough that I barely feel his weight. He is wrapped in light cloth of cotton. He has a bold head with peach fuzz here and there. The baby starts crying. Hungry--I think and I give him my breast. I feel his tiny hands. They are chubby and resemble silk at thouch. I grow so attached. The baby falls asleep on my shoulder. I feel his breath, little heart beat, pleasant warmth. I think to myself that there is nothing more beautiful in this life then this baby. My baby, sleeps peacefully.

Pompey. In front of me a glass case. It's taller than me and passed the dust and vague reflection of me, there are plaster casts on the floor. Casts of the victims of the devouring lava.

79 AD. People hide in the garden, hoping to escape the fury of the Vesuvius. Loads of steaming, hot, orange mass floods the city. They saw it come closer and closer. The mother and her children and other men saw it from the garden.

Forever they will watch. They were captured and sealed in lava. The mother and her children gathering their bodies in pain and the men mesmerized by what they saw that second. Colossal force of nature so powerful and astonishing that human words can't describe it. No words because if you are a witness you're gone. Darkness.

Darkness. Sealed under this black skin of ashes. Roting away bit by bit until found, poured into, put in a glass container. On display like a fossil, forever, serving the thirst of the tourists.

I watch the plaster molds and I can only imagine the pain.

The baby wakes up crying. There are people running. I am lost and confused. I turn around to look behind me. A giant green foaming mass of water, the size of a mountain, is ready to devour. It moves closer and closer. No mercy. I am mesmerized. I am so small, helpless, insignificant. And there are so many of us tiny, running around like bugs.

I run. I am so attached to the baby. Run. Run. For the life of the baby. Hide. Where? How? The mass of watter fills in everything until it bursts. My baby. He did not even see the world yet. It's too soon to go. Run. There is a pillar. Hide behind it. Hold on to the baby. Tight. Tighter. It is the last time. Darkness.

7:15 Am. Some annoying alarm clock noise lets me know I need to get up. I need to get ready to go to Pompey.

Corrupt Love

First she was uncorrupted. She had a perfect, as it seemed to her, idea about love. So pure and tender, sincere and soothing, innocent and mutual, beautiful and meaningful. That was love. Her mind was free to rumble about different love scenarios, in which sacrifice was a proper thing to do.

She met her soul mate as she thought--the one she would give all her love to. She would! All that pure warmth that was adding up and storing in her heart all these years. All that light she collected from the smiling faces in the crowd, from the beauty of the drops on a cold cup of water, from the joyof the pink shadows in the dusk, from the richness of the chocolate that melted in her mouth, from the purity of the rain, the glistening water that ran between her toes in the swimming pool. She wanted to give all of that to him. All that energy, all of her.

She felt his kiss one day. She did not know what it was, but it was so innocent. His breth seemed to absorb her light. Take it all she thought.

But latter she expected his innocent heart to open for her. She needed that exchange of light. She gave him hers, she wanted his. But his heart was different, his mind has a different understanding of love. All in his heart was reasonably analyzed, distributed in alphabetical order, coded and stored in his heart and programed to give his lessons of life, or give him joy during cold times. His love was reasonable, careful, thought out.

She went beyond reason because of all that reasonable love in him did not make sense. The light in her was gone. She was starved but she stumped the starvation, to be with him. he was the one who still carried what was part of her. He had her light. She still loved him, but she had nothing to give, and the once innocent kiss, the bridge for energy became a broken bridge. Suddenly everything was dry and simple and did not worry her at all. She broke up with him.

She fell in love again. A different kind of love. She learned from the first time. Her heart was programed to give her lessons of live, or give her joy during cold times. Her love was reasonable, careful, thought out. She was searching to absorb the light she lost. But she kept her heart safe she kept everything locked inside, for herself. She liked that selfish love. She did not know why she had a wrong idea about love before. Her love was corrupt.

So the disease keeps spinning full circles around the world.