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a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z

Monday, 23 June 2008

Dream

At a small room overlooking a brown murky lake. My things piled up toward the space of the window. It is David Alan Harvey’s guest room. My things are starting to slide down the slope and fall into the lake below. A book hits the water. Harvey says things need to be reorganized. Cut.

I’m walking around a large open space. A wide street, a university campus? Only pedestrians. In the states I think. Eccentric youths walking around. I have my camera slung across my back. Cut.

I look at a map. I identify a place to go in this ‘campus’. It is a depiction of a park with grey columns (and statues?) organized in a square grid with circles inside. Cut.

I’m at a bar. There’s live music(?) The place is empty. Cut.

At a ‘theme park’ entrance which leads to the university. In some sort of ordering queue which looks like a fast-food drive-through. Amber is with me. We order and begin going in while standing on a conveyor belt. Cut.

Inside building. Maybe university building, or hotel. See young kid chasing a ball around the corner of a red hallway. The kid gets to the corner and is about to pick up the ball—I take a picture, his parents are right there. Image of a blurred picture showing the kid’s movement of bending down and picking up the ball. Cut.

Walking inside this building still, in the basement now, series of pipes leading down, there are futuristic-looking capsules. They are dark grey with light green details. Most are empty. A person shows me one. This one is ‘full’. It is an atomic bomb. I fiddle with controls and turn it on and then off again after struggling a bit. I make a comment about the terrible design of the controls. Cut.

Back to Harvey’s apartment, in a living room now. I’ve picked up all my things at once and believe I have organized them. He makes a comment about us (I have a couple of friends with me now) needing to go to see a lecture about some person who is an ‘expert’ on J. Krishnamurti. I don’t trust this person. We head out but I’m late because I’m looking for something to take with me and for a key to the door. Cut.

Scene of a battle. Like a videogame. Soldiers coming across a no-mans land. I and some other person are outnumbered. Looking through a scope of a weapon and trying to fire. There are women among the enemy soldiers. Throwing grenades with timers toward small helicopter ‘sentries’ coming over the top of our barrier, but they don’t go off. Cut.

I’ve arrived at the lecture. Looking for a place to sit. My friends decide to sit somewhere else. I find a chair near the middle. A girl I don’t know says that it is wet and indeed it is. I wipe the liquid off the chair and smell ginger. Cut.

Enter room with my dad holding a larger version of the atomic capsules. He’s turned it on and there’s a small sliding lever slowly moving across the device. I try to turn it off but can’t figure out how to. He says “we’re all going to die”. I realize the capsule is a remote control to the real bomb in the campus nearby. I think of the range between the campus and the room I am in. No way to escape. Poof.

I wake up.

a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z

Simon Griffee

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