another sunday siesta dream. i woke up vaguely remembering being commissioned to record in the very best words i could find the world around me as i saw it. the dying monk asked me to, and i unquestioningly submitted to his demand, like alyosha in ‘the brothers karamazov’ that lies half read besides my bed.
as i ran around looking and noting on precisely formed vertical sheets every object i saw, i was feeling pretty pleased with myself. the words floated in precisely chosen places on the white sheets. as i went on collecting and creating these sheets they started to fall around my feet swirling around my ankles like water. sheet over sheet fell until the words got entangled in one another. the water became turbid and heavy until i could not walk anymore and fell.
but i can only imagine what last night’s dream would have been after ‘iron man’. in it
i love superhero films, even the most silly.