As I’m sitting in the sun a butterfly zips my way and hits me in the back of my head, it’s a surprisingly big thump for such a delicate light insect.
It is night and I am sitting in the sand, I hear the surf close by but I don’t see it. He is here too I can feel it, I don’t see his face but it is him I can feel his smile, although that doesn’t make any sense.
He is right here but I miss him so much it’s painful. He is standing right next to me but I still miss him. And then, there’s the butterfly, again.
A butterfly in the night.
Then I wake and it’s my cat begging for food.
I had a dream a few nights ago, but I didn’t write it down. Somehow I couldn’t forget it, it’s . . . strangeness and the connections it gave me to him.
There is a great expanse of nothingness, maybe a cool, dark expanse of sand. A beach in the winter, but without sun and without water but a beach nonetheless. There were are sitting on camp chairs, tied down, next to each other. Me and her, but who is she? I know instantly, although I’ve never seen her and I don’t know how she looks like, I don’t know her voice, the way she moves, I don’t know anything about her but I know it’s her, his sister.
We sit in silence and he appears in between us.
Sometimes I don’t know where I’m going from here.
Sometimes I don’t know where I stand.
Even when I look around me I don’t recognize my surroundings and I find myself looking for familiar places and familiar faces. I search the sky but the light is different, I open the windows but the air doesn’t smell the same way . . .
No trees, no water, no sand . . .Just an immense expanse of gray concrete.
I randomly start writing and this is what comes out. I think of him and inevitably think of sex, is no wonder, you don’t have to be a hormone-ranging teenager to think about someone and to immediately sex pops into your mind. I walk along a beach now, I remember the smell of the ocean so clearly. As soon as I feel the sand under me it’s like no time has elapse whatsoever. It is so strange . . .I cannot understand it and yet, I understand Einstein the Theory of Relatively perfectly. It’s all in less than a second. The sun, the sand, the water . . . And suddenly time doesn’t exist anymore. All the hours and days and infinite, infinite seconds of every moment of your life since you left that place dissolve into nothingness. The same nothingness that has accompanied me for so long . . . Or is it you? So long that it has disappeared. And there, there is darkness, all around us, inside us, coming out of us thorough our words. Words are a construct, like the entirety of reality is just a construct. Now I’m thinking of The Matrix and also thinking if this makes any sense. And by this I mean all that I have just written.
In my first dream my sister was dead, but I had a second sister younger still. Her name was Elena and she looked exactly like my recently dream-deceased one.
In my second dream I was a fairy flying through a Victorian house full of wood paneling and winding stairs. It was Christmas night and everything was quiet and dark, like in a children’s book. Only the tree was alight.
In my third dream it was a dark night. A girl wanted to kill me and there was a moped chase through the streets of a housing area. I called the cops and learned how to fire a gun.
In my fourth dream he was there. We were in the yard of a house and he had a water hose in his hand. There were others there and he soaked everybody with it. I looked at him and said “Look at you, impecable as always. Impervious to water.” He smiled and walked mw home.