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cornerofmadnessI was having a very complicated dream this morning that ended when they decided to mow the lawn at 8 Am (ugh my day to sleep in).
My whole family was at grandma's but she was gone (her funeral? I don't know it didn't feel like it) and my cousins who are now teens were all still young. Nothing looked like grandma's house. It was more like an 1890's wood mansion. I was struck by the fact that the Victrola was spinning but no one was planning it. I asked my cousins but unsurprisingly the kids didn't even know what it was or what it did.
I went upstairs with my parents and my older cousins. Dad was proud of himself because he had found two new rooms when he was remodeling grandma's place. We went into the first and Mom kept pointing out the wallpaper on the ceiling. It was red orange and purple thick geometric lines. It covered the whole room.
The other room was bigger than my whole apartment. Dream self even said so. It was vast, filled with old dust ravaged furniture and seemed to wrap the house. There was a door on the far side of it which lead to a long narrow sun room. It had these skinny rectangular windows covered with plastic. Dad was showing me how easy they pushed out and how we could put in multi-colored plexiglass windows to make it jewel-toned in the room. I was wondering why there wasn't bird poop on the floor since the plastic was so old and falling out that animals should have been in the room. I also wondered how we could have not noticed these windows on the outside of the house for the last 90 years.
'Dad, I think I want Grandma's house.'
'You don't live in PA.'
'I know,' I say going back into the main house noticing how warped and loose the floorboards are. 'I'm looking for a job here. I think I want this house.'
'It's too much work for you.'
That is probably true I concede and ask about the Victrola. He tells me it must be the ghost and I should talk to the resident psychic. I'm puzzled. Dad doesn't just not believe in ghosts or psychics, he actively hates on the idea. I go downstairs to what does look like grandma's living room and there's this overweight woman lying on the floor hiding behind the couch. She tells me the spirits are angry because of the dead body.
Dad agrees and tells me I need to move it. Outside suddenly becomes my parents' yard. Dad insists that I move the body in a wheelbarrow so I set off with this bloody body in a wheelbarrow with an axe and a shovel. I'm going into the woods behind my parents place and guiding the wheelbarrow is H, from my writers group. She's unfazed by the dead guy and is ecstatic to help me because she loved me and was thrilled I had kissed her a few days ago (in real life, H is a young lesbian, literally half my age). I was thinking it had been an accident but didn't know how to tell her that. I thought she knew I wasn't gay. I was also thinking that I shouldn't piss off the girl who's helping me to hide a body that we were going to have to dismember.
We crest the hill and there's an abandoned factory and next to it is a toxic blue-green water lake that had been created for the factory. IN the lake you can see the town they had flood, especially the gravestones and church steeples. I had wanted to hack the guy up and toss him and the axe in but realized I had forgotten gloves and my finger prints would be on the axe.
We move on and I notice in the mud there are cloven hoof prints and we're following them but suddenly there were people everywhere and we were at a town's train tracks. Suddenly it's not me and H any more. We're both tweens and I'm a boy. And there's no more wheelbarrow. I'm holding a bloody head in a sack and this Hollywood Starlet type woman with long blond hair is telling me 'it's okay. These are country people. We're safe now. They won't be startled by a little blood.' I'm bloody. The sack is dribbling blood and to prove her point she makes me draw patterns on the pavement with the blood drops but no one looks.
She takes the bag from me and herds us both across the street to a swanky old hotel. She goes to talk to management and an enthusiastic man finds us. he has a five thousand dollar check for me to pay for the bad things that happened in the hotel the last time we were there and that we'd be safe with him.
Then the lawnmower woke me up. Wow, brain. Really?
And now some links of kindness and tear jerking
A very good young man Let's face it, high school is awkward. Prom makes it more so. I will never forget mine. My boyfriend told me he couldn't afford to go. I was disappointed but understood. Then he asked out my best friend who not only told him no but told ME. Yeah I was pissed. He was out (in fact he never made prom. He was booted for selling drugs. I had no clue). Another guy asked me but I had said no (I feel bad about this now but honestly, I barely knew him. He was in developmental classes and looking back, it had to have taken all his courage to ask me. I don't even remember his name now. For that matter I don't remember drug boy either. He was new that year from California and liked me because of fandom of all things). I asked another male friend who said no. Then another who didn't just say no but actually hugged the wall and ran away as if even talking to me was horrible. 30 years later, I still remember standing there, heart pounding because I was nervous and the look of horror on his face. I didn't go to prom. I did go a year later to my sorority formal with a boy who didn't run in terror from the idea of someone thinking I might like him.
these are just not kind but also smart I'm just impressed, flat out.
and the stars respond This one is very sad and yet amazing the way celebrities took to one dying young man's song and made this video to it. If you know someone cancer has touched....
My whole family was at grandma's but she was gone (her funeral? I don't know it didn't feel like it) and my cousins who are now teens were all still young. Nothing looked like grandma's house. It was more like an 1890's wood mansion. I was struck by the fact that the Victrola was spinning but no one was planning it. I asked my cousins but unsurprisingly the kids didn't even know what it was or what it did.
I went upstairs with my parents and my older cousins. Dad was proud of himself because he had found two new rooms when he was remodeling grandma's place. We went into the first and Mom kept pointing out the wallpaper on the ceiling. It was red orange and purple thick geometric lines. It covered the whole room.
The other room was bigger than my whole apartment. Dream self even said so. It was vast, filled with old dust ravaged furniture and seemed to wrap the house. There was a door on the far side of it which lead to a long narrow sun room. It had these skinny rectangular windows covered with plastic. Dad was showing me how easy they pushed out and how we could put in multi-colored plexiglass windows to make it jewel-toned in the room. I was wondering why there wasn't bird poop on the floor since the plastic was so old and falling out that animals should have been in the room. I also wondered how we could have not noticed these windows on the outside of the house for the last 90 years.
'Dad, I think I want Grandma's house.'
'You don't live in PA.'
'I know,' I say going back into the main house noticing how warped and loose the floorboards are. 'I'm looking for a job here. I think I want this house.'
'It's too much work for you.'
That is probably true I concede and ask about the Victrola. He tells me it must be the ghost and I should talk to the resident psychic. I'm puzzled. Dad doesn't just not believe in ghosts or psychics, he actively hates on the idea. I go downstairs to what does look like grandma's living room and there's this overweight woman lying on the floor hiding behind the couch. She tells me the spirits are angry because of the dead body.
Dad agrees and tells me I need to move it. Outside suddenly becomes my parents' yard. Dad insists that I move the body in a wheelbarrow so I set off with this bloody body in a wheelbarrow with an axe and a shovel. I'm going into the woods behind my parents place and guiding the wheelbarrow is H, from my writers group. She's unfazed by the dead guy and is ecstatic to help me because she loved me and was thrilled I had kissed her a few days ago (in real life, H is a young lesbian, literally half my age). I was thinking it had been an accident but didn't know how to tell her that. I thought she knew I wasn't gay. I was also thinking that I shouldn't piss off the girl who's helping me to hide a body that we were going to have to dismember.
We crest the hill and there's an abandoned factory and next to it is a toxic blue-green water lake that had been created for the factory. IN the lake you can see the town they had flood, especially the gravestones and church steeples. I had wanted to hack the guy up and toss him and the axe in but realized I had forgotten gloves and my finger prints would be on the axe.
We move on and I notice in the mud there are cloven hoof prints and we're following them but suddenly there were people everywhere and we were at a town's train tracks. Suddenly it's not me and H any more. We're both tweens and I'm a boy. And there's no more wheelbarrow. I'm holding a bloody head in a sack and this Hollywood Starlet type woman with long blond hair is telling me 'it's okay. These are country people. We're safe now. They won't be startled by a little blood.' I'm bloody. The sack is dribbling blood and to prove her point she makes me draw patterns on the pavement with the blood drops but no one looks.
She takes the bag from me and herds us both across the street to a swanky old hotel. She goes to talk to management and an enthusiastic man finds us. he has a five thousand dollar check for me to pay for the bad things that happened in the hotel the last time we were there and that we'd be safe with him.
Then the lawnmower woke me up. Wow, brain. Really?
And now some links of kindness and tear jerking
A very good young man Let's face it, high school is awkward. Prom makes it more so. I will never forget mine. My boyfriend told me he couldn't afford to go. I was disappointed but understood. Then he asked out my best friend who not only told him no but told ME. Yeah I was pissed. He was out (in fact he never made prom. He was booted for selling drugs. I had no clue). Another guy asked me but I had said no (I feel bad about this now but honestly, I barely knew him. He was in developmental classes and looking back, it had to have taken all his courage to ask me. I don't even remember his name now. For that matter I don't remember drug boy either. He was new that year from California and liked me because of fandom of all things). I asked another male friend who said no. Then another who didn't just say no but actually hugged the wall and ran away as if even talking to me was horrible. 30 years later, I still remember standing there, heart pounding because I was nervous and the look of horror on his face. I didn't go to prom. I did go a year later to my sorority formal with a boy who didn't run in terror from the idea of someone thinking I might like him.
these are just not kind but also smart I'm just impressed, flat out.
and the stars respond This one is very sad and yet amazing the way celebrities took to one dying young man's song and made this video to it. If you know someone cancer has touched....
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