I used to sleep

HYPNOS: I used to sleep. I used to sleep and dream. Dream about sheep. Just kidding — I never dream about sheep. Sheep are boring and expected. Still they are cuddly and innocuous little beings. Eating their grass. Baa-ing. Wandering around. Eating more grass. Laying down… what do you think a sheep thinks like? 

Do you think sheep have the same kinds of problems people do only maybe their gradiation is smaller? Like sheep has blue, yellow, purple, but humans got chartreuse, goldenrod, amethyst. How do you think a god sees? It’s… indescribable. You see, to understand it would be touching divinity. It would mean that you’d have to die. Maybe then you could understand. The dead understand a lot of things that the living don’t.

There’s a seed in the heart of the forest down in South America that is supposed to be THE remedy for sleep. It’s been 21 days. Even for a god, I’m starting to feel as though something is off. As if I don’t understand myself anymore. I was looking for ways to get this seed here, but of course, it’s near to impossible. 

First of all, you’d need a guide to even find it. But the guide doesn’t speak Spanish or Portuguese so you gotta find a guide for the guide who knows the language of deep within the forest. Second, the conditions have to be just right for the plant to flower and fruit, or so it’s indicated on these numerous websites that I’ve bookmarked. Apparently it’s a really stinky kind of flower that attracts the worst kind of bugs.

I’m afraid of bites… Well, I suppose that’s obvious though…

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite…”

“Good night!”

Good night. 

“Good night.”

I can feel the world’s people go to bed. And I’m going insane. People tell me “just go to bed,” but I can’t go to bed! I’m racing once I’m in there. Ready to go. Better than coffee. Better than any kind of drug. I’m like thinking a million things a moment. I have all these ideas like toaster with a side container to make eggs. Dog socks. A left-handed violin. Shoes that clean themselves. Jackets that turn into seat cushions. I could go on forever.

I could go on forever.

I could…

go on…

forever…

Forever. 

I need to sleep. The dreams do something with all these thoughts. The dreams know how to sort it out. The dreams point the direction. 

And I stop worrying.

I walk.

I enjoy my day. 

I remember what it’s like to laugh.

And the deepness of an instant.

I see me again. 

When I dream.

I miss dreaming.

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what is it like?

More inspiration writing for the play that is a part of the San Francisco Olympians Festival on the god of nonviolent death, Thanatos.

Incidentally, I’ll be interviewed about the play along with Veronica Tjioe by fellow writer, Jovelyn Richards, who is the host of a radio program on KPFA, Jovelyn’s Boutique. This will be on Wednesday from 3:30-4:00 PM PST, so listen in or check out the archived interview later.

T: What is it like to die… what does it feel like for them? I don’t know… I try to make it painless, or at least, if there is pain, maybe I help them come to terms with it before finally releasing it. The process of death is both quicker and slower than you think. 

Slower because, as you know, every moment in linear time is one step closer to it. To me. Quicker because ultimately, it’s simple. You are here and then you are not here.

The actual moment? I don’t know if it’s painful. I would imagine it is because everything in life lives on a pain scale. But maybe I’m wrong about that, maybe the feeling of death is the opposite of the feeling of life. Maybe what I do is painless.

How would I know that I had died and that I wasn’t just dreaming? See, that is where Sleep and Death — the fact that we’re twins — comes into play. It fools people. It’s calling for one when you mean the other. When you need the other. 

Now that I have started to dream… Vivid dreams as true as day. I wonder what it would be like to live there instead of here. I wonder if my experience is tempered and adulterated by the feeling of waking. Disorienting light. Words that make no sense. Symbols. Birds flying backwards make no sense, but in the dream world it’s just another thing to notice or ignore.

It makes me appreciate the reality we call, “life” much more. Little things, like the way the sun creates a painting that no artistic genius would every be able to put together — every day. The way that water feels. The color of people’s eyes. The sound of footsteps. Wind. Did you know each moment contains so much to be in awe of?

I think some of them miss that.

If anything feels painful, it’s that realization. I could imagine that it’s heartbreaking, which is why all these souls have so much trouble remembering who they are. Only the truly strong would be able to hold even a little of that. It’s no judgement — the weight of experience is just too much after a while. 

And so…


how the dreams work

i believe this is another monologue… maybe it will find its way into a current project or at least be inspiration there of.
The dreams never happen when you want them to. And it’s too bad cuz they’re so good. Smooth dreams. Dreams with epic soundtracks and a sense of flow. A sense of trajectory. A sense of wonder. Dreams that make you think they are real. They can be. At least, they point to things. When you are in them, they unfold at this pace that’s just like… it’s stunning. But outside of them, they don’t make any sense. And people won’t believe. They will think you’re crazy. So, don’t be like me. Don’t tell anyone your dreams…

Sometimes I try to remember the common threads that got me to here. Old man. Red dress. Crow flying. A train.

A train edging into the night feels like heading into oblivion. Feels like heading into the heart of a black hole. Into the unknown with no way out. Into the deepness of something that will consume you. It will. 

Sometimes I want to be taken. The dream brings me in. I don’t want to be out. I see things clearer in there than any kind of picture. It’s only on the outside that it looks warped, convoluted, makes no sense. 

I’m getting better at learning its language. Sometimes I ask. Sometimes I ask for help and the dream answers. Finds a way to keep pointing to me where I need to go. 

People say, “okay, dream of this and it will happen.” But it doesn’t work that way. The dreams know where you need to go. The best you can do is ride them fully. Go with them until you’re at the place you need to be. You see what you need to see. Sometimes what you need to face. And it makes you stronger because you stand there watching. Always watching. Waiting to act. Aborbing. Taking it all in. Every detail. Every moment is stockpiled if it is felt. You gotta be patient. “Wait for it,” is an understatement. But it’s okay by me, because once I’m into something, I can stay on it a very long time. My endurance surpasses most and it keeps developing. Keeps getting stronger. 

And so when you wake up, you only have to move through the moments again. Replay it by walking through your steps.

Did you know the way we experience time is not real? Like it’s real, but it isn’t at the same time. We go from here to there. A to B. Progression. Succession. One thing after anothet, right? But we don’t really do that. Well, we do, but in our minds we remember the past, jump to the future, jump around and back to the present. All at the same time that we’re just here. Just here living life and experiencing its various complexities — such as time for one. We repeat again and again. Always new, never new. Never old because each moment it new. It’s circuitous. Spiraling. It’s not the shape you think it is. 

That’s my secret by the way. That’s why I’m never bored – only tired. And there is a difference. Boredom is not being entertained by whatever you’re experiencing. Being tired or exhaustion is when you still try to be actively engaged but you physically, psychologically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually you are drained. You have less than you’re working with when you’re 100%. And that’s how I see the moment and why I can wait if I need to, because what I see when I am quiet with myself is a whole variety of things others don’t.

I see the future. And I see beauty. 

dream guide

i’m thinking this is a monologue. you can read it as such. or poetry if you prefer. i’m thinking it’s a part of a larger whole. at some point i’ll put in a guide to how i use punctuation in plays. though maybe it’s fairly intuitive. the key thing is to hear it.
this is what she says

she says

this is the beginning of a story

like a sweeping epic film

like a horse

no a cheetah running slow motion

like a wolf about to pounce

like a bear standing in a stream waiting to catch salmon

with its claws

with its claws

eyes locked

eyes set forward

unblinking

in full comprehension of the scene

eyes set

running

forward

quick jolt to the outside

lean

and then closer than ever

closing in

closing in 

and one slight leap

a pounce forward onto prey

onto 

and latching on 

latched on

holding

holding on

this is the beginning of a story she says

she says

i want to imagine yourself as a bird

as a dove

as an eagle

i want you to imagine yourself flying

see yourself in open blue

in open space

floor of green

i want you to see yourself

dream guide

i am the guide

i am the dream guide

this is your journey

i can make you real

do you want to be real?

give me your hand

 

little change of pace

little change of pace. i was talking with a friend today and wanting to write more plays/scenes. so here you go… 🙂


It’s a room that is dim and amber. It’s warm and hidden away though in the center of things. It’s a room that has cozy chairs and there’s one window with it’s blinds semi-opened to the outside world. It’s far away from where they sit.

In the distance, you hear the traffic. You hear the commotion of people moving through the streets below. You hear the flutter of pigeons as they fly to perch. And the coo as they sit, listening on the other side of the walls.

1: no no

but you were like really afraid

like you wouldn’t even look up

2: i don’t know

1: it was weird

2: well what did you want me to do, i-

1: look up!

2: pssh whatever

you don’t get it

1: okay yea maybe

you always say that

by the way

2: yea but like what you supposed to do with stupid things that come up that make no sense? it’s not like i’m afraid of you now/ and that’s what’s important

1: that’s what’s important

2: yea exactly

see that’s what’s i’m saying

like

you want to dwell in the past and act like “oh this is who you are so this is all /you’ll ever be, but i-”

1:i didn’t say that

2: no, okay

yes, i said that

but you see what i’m saying right?

like

1: what?

2: it’s just not all i am

that’s all

that’s my only point 

1: well, yea, i mean

i know that

that to me is like a given

2: okay…

1: look, it’s so much a given i never think about it

2: i do

1: i know you do

2: pssh… okay fine

1: what?

2: well you make it seem like it’s this goal to get to/

1: isn’t it?

2: like i should be aspiring to get to here

1: yeah!

2: okay…

1: well, i mean what’s wrong with that?

let me just ask you –

what’s wrong with that?

2: okay… i get it

look i get it

seriously
she smiles.


1: you’re a lot better now

seriously

2: thanks…

1: i mean it

i kinda like you a lot more now

2: thanks? 

1: no you know!

c’mon

you’re just like

2: like what?

1: you’re cool

you’re just cool

you’re a cool girl

2: thank you

finally

took you forever to say that

1: oh come on you don’t need me to say that

2: people do

they need some…

glitter sometimes

1: glitter?!

2: you know

shiny

something you can be dazzled by for a while

something you can hold on to

1: what kinda glitter are you talking about?

2: oh come on you know what i mean now you’re toying with me

now you’re just toying with me

he laughs.


1: okay

you’re right

you got me

what can i say?

you got me
from another room, a soft song plays. it’s distant and nostalgic, but something about it, while melancholic, brightens the air.

they listen for a while and then look at each other smiling “did you hear that?”– they both noticed something change and are happy that they both caught it.