Friday, 3 September 2010

subversive materials (a dream/a life)

in my dreams i am flying on a boat streamed above the water. no wings just a snake leading me. to a strange boat house behind iron bars. i am allowed in. the famous are there, the visible, dining finely upstairs. they celebrate a funeral. only the woman in the coffin is not dead yet, but she knows her death is inevitable. she knows she will never see any of these people again. they have come to say goodbye.
there is some dark secret hidden. my mother warns me not to waste money buying gifts for the rich. instead i am to concentrate on "the sweet couples".
outside is the playground i played in as a child. yet it is all different, the ornamental swing set and the treehouse slide and the dark little shacks have been removed. now it is tarmaced over with grotesque glowing colours. all the children play in huddled groups, as if they are being watched, as if they are being forced to interact in this way. but the cakes they sell in the cafe, the icing smells the same.
it is time to leave. i say goodbye to the dying woman. i feel sad, i know soon her time will be up. she says she doesn't regret anything and it is important that i keep on living and stay positive. persevere endure be strong.
i get back in by boat, it hovers as before but the steering is off, i feel out of control. on my way back to the river i fly past beautiful water features in the back gardens of one storey houses but i cannot pay attention and take them in, i have somewhere to get to urgently.
at the riverside my mother is there. i fall into the river. my clothes are wet but it is not cold. a strange song plays... "this is the road... these are the faces you lean upon..." but... i feel as though i have not heard the song for a long time, even though it is familiar. i cannot get back into the boat, cannot climb on to the bank. so i wake up.

i take the pills the psychiatrist tells me i have to take. i don't trust him. i don't trust anyone. the world feels hard. all against me. will i be strong enough to assert myself without being smothered and crushed. i do not trust. i will not rely.

i will make my own mind up.

i am the resistance. i try to allow others the freedom i myself was denied. the freedom to choose. my path becomes clearer.

i wait for the other. i do not know when he will come. still i wait. i do not mind waiting so much these days. i learn patience. the truth will come to me, i believe.

i gain a bizarre kind of faith.

i begin to trust myself.

"this is the road...."

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