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Are you helpless?
2001-02-21. 09:51:46.

Last night I dreamt of having to move to another village. I was English mother of a brood snot-nosed rugrats. Yes, we were poor. We came upon what seemed to be a deserted cottage at the end of an open field. Surprisingly, the garden was in bloom with lavendar and parsley. We went inside, hoping for some table scraps or crumbs left behind in the rushed leave of absense of the previous inhabitants. All we found were a mess of broken dishes and ghosts. "I am crying," the cold wind whispered. The cottage had another door, that exited onto a cobblestone street. More ghosts, more tears. We decided to escape through the garden, but we would never be left alone by the memories that we trampled on. We continued our journey to what we now knew was the forbiden city.

We came to tall gates, exotic and intricate and ornate. We followed the path to the great temple in the middle of the city and made our way up bamboo steps. We climbed until we reached the peak of the dark dome of the temple, until we reached the opening in the middle. "Go ahead, fall in..." All of the sudden, I was no longer the mother. I was the last of the little girls, still scared of slides, to reach into the unknown darkness, to fall into the black hole beneath us.

At the bottom, incense, chants, monks. Acceptance, truth, father.

Tonight I dreamt of bathing in the public pools, like those of ancient and golden Rome, tiles and flowing water. I dreamt of friends, near and far, and of beauty queens and reunions with drop-outs. I dreamt of him, plucking me from my sphere of existence. He was a navigator, a magician of space and time. We fell through the universe, past stars, through nebulas, and clouds of dust and gas, and I was not afraid of where we may land.

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