december 12, 2012
i’m home sick with the flu. i’m cleaning the house, moving some things around. i’m surprised by the fact that we have matching tiki bars. i guess M picked up another one but it’s warped and damaged. oh well. i’m moving the other bar around trying to figure out a good way to create more space. it seems like i’m back on my childhood street. i notice that there’s some vodka left in the bar. i grab a cocktail glass and make a dirty martini. i drink it and keep cleaning. i make some phone calls. i seem to be enjoying this drink. it tastes nice. after a little while i’m finished with it. but i want another. and then it hits me. what have i done!? i just drank a martini! after a year without booze i have to start over!? i immediately think “well, i didn’t get drunk, so it’s really not a big deal. i don’t need to tell anyone.” but that thought is immediately replaced with guilt and frustration. i can’t believe what i have just done. i’m surprised and disappointed in myself.
i’m grappling with the moral dilema of keeping a secret or telling on myself. all of a sudden i find myself in new york harbor. i’m surrounded by immigrants coming in on boats and apparently i am one of them. they have guns and as soon as the border patrol helicopters begin to swoop in they are shot down. i’m in the middle of a surprise battle. i have to swim for my life and try to escape the madness. i wind up in different coves with different people, all trying to hide and escape the insanity of it all. i’m trying to not to think of the drink i had. somehow i realize that it’s not real. that’s it’s just been a dream.
i awaken in bed and scream out “it’s a dream! it’s only a dream!”
