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sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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And the real me thought to herself, "If he's real, why does he have to say that he's real?"
The dream ended this way: The woman, the sole employee of the convenience store, came over to the counter where Max and I were standing and showed me four pieces of white bread. I saw hot dogs behind the counter and assumed she was going to use the bread as buns, but she told me that she was going to use them to smoke. Max and I wandered around the store, encountering a woman who was exchaning a bra. It was a white bra she was exchanging because it was the wrong size, but she was looking for a bra the same size, but in a different color, mistakenly (I thought) thinking that if she had a different color that it might fit better. The dream shifted then, and I found myself in an underground room. There was a banquet going on, but I was at the edge of the crowd. I was served caviar on toast, but I wanted chopped egg and onion to go with it. Looking around, I saw that BG, my Shakespeare prof, was serving others, so I asked him for the egg and onion, which he brought me. I began to eat my caviar, and a woman came through the room. She was an entertainer, dressed as Cleopatra. She simply walked from one end of the room to the other, coming down a flight of stairs as she entered, and going up another flight as she exited the room. She came through again, this time floating a few inches above the ground. She came through a third time, this time floating sixteen or eighteen inches above the ground. The last time, I realized that she was me. She was the fake me, but that I was the real me. When I realized this, she came over to me. She was very tall and graceful, and she didn't look anything like me. She spoke to me, saying, "I'm not real. But here is something that is," and she gestured theatrically off to her right. I noticed then that there was this alien standing there. It was a very stereotypical alien, but very large, green, and with huge head and eyes. He stepped forward towards the real me, and reached up to press a fleshy bar on his body that I knew would allow him to speak to me. As he began to speak, the real me thought, "If he's real, why does he need to say that he's real?" and then I woke up. I woke up knowing that the alien was Minuku-san, and also, I woke thinking that it was a cynical question that the real me had asked herself. Over the course of the day, it occurred to me that it hadn't been a cynical question, but a very straight-forward one: why does Minuku-san have to say that he's real when the real me (and the fake me, apparently) knows it already?
More lies:
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