Dream Log: April 11, 2000

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• Don't cakes usually have eggs in them? She thought about it and said yes. She had only mixed up strawberries and sugar and dumped them into a bundt pan. We read the recipe and it called for a crust which sounded complicated so we decided just to eat the sweet strawberries.

• Someone had made cookies for me and handed me one, watching to see how I liked it. It was cold and hard and gray and had lumps of unassimilated baking powder in it. I did not pretend it was good.

• Heather pulled me aside and gave me a little speech about how no one was going to leave until the matter was resolved. They said my father had been using racial slurs. I defended him but no one would let me complete a sentence. I could not escape the feeling that I had [pantyhose stretched over my face, but of course I didn't.

• I was in the front yard picking up legos and I had gotten to fifty when suddenly I was downstairs in my parents' house. The workers upstairs were throwing things down the stairs - beams, boards, almost hitting me every time. I shouted for them to stop and one man looked at me evilly. I screamed at him and he laughed, I don't think my voice had any sound to it. I thrashed and hit hit and threw things and rammed a board into his crotch but nothing had any effect. I screamed for my father who also could not hear me.

• In the van on the way to get the crystal flake I was nervous but happy. The big guy driving was not exactly trustworthy but he was as close to a friend as I'd had in a while. I may have been Jack Kerouac or Hunter S. Thompson, maybe not. When we got the flake I traded him some pot for it, thinking, worthless, and touched my tongue to a golden crumb. Within seconds everything was richer, better, ringing like a bell.