I dream fairly often about strange impossible parties. These dreams are often peopled with a weird mix of strangers and friends. Invariably I am confused but merrly so. I am never aware of who is throwing the party or why I’m there.
I wake from these dreams befuddled. Uncertain as to whether or not I was supposed to have been at the party.
Sometimes these dreams become unpleasant. People around me turn ugly. There is violence just out of my field of view. It’s all my fault and I know that everyone knows that I am secretly titillated.
Heading Southbound on the bus. Going home. Written around 10:30 PM
This boy keeps smiling at me like I’m going to take off my headphones, put aside my notebook and talk to him. I wonder if he knew that I my little smile isn’t because he’s trying to flirt but because I’m fantasizing about bashing every person on this bus in the face with a bat all while I listen to Nick Cave reading his book in my ear.
I’m not sure it matters.
I’ll stop looking at him before he figures it out.
Some nights, it’s a struggle to hold on to my civility.