2 dreams

wayne coyne took a shine to me. at first it started out that i was shy and uncertain and feeling weird about being with him, but he talked soft and kind and spent days warming me up with trips to vegan cafes, to record stores, and toy shops, mechanics to get my motorized bicyle looked at, and kite flying and hand holding. finally it culminated in me giving him very bad oral sex. i was awful and also mortified; i couldn't get him off. but he still loved me even afterwards. i thought that there was no way for him to love me, i was entirely unworthy and a bad lay to boot, but he wouldn't abandon me.



the second dream was filled with birds and islands and ocean. we were on a tour of cortes island's most luxurious and expensive homes. several of them could be launched out to sea. the most interesting one was enormous, like a west vancouver mansion, and when it was time to put it out to sea, it curved down around this long, sloped ramp from the top of a mountain. part of the trip down was through the mountain, like a tunnel. the owner said, "look out the windows to see where all the ducks hide at twilight," and i looked and sure enough there were billions upon billions of mallards all swimming in a panic away from the moving house. finally, the house bumped out onto the open ocean. my mom was with me. we saw there was a dinghy and asked if we could row around in it and the owner said it would be fine. as we are floating further and further away from the houseboat, i saw a bald eagle not too far above us, flying and looking predacious. i saw, "wow, mom, look! i think it is going to dive for a fish!" we watched in awe as it did exactly as i said. it plunged, talons out and menacing, into the ocean only a few yards from our dinghy, and came up soaked and fishless. not discouraged and clearly able to see the fish still swimming, it rose, higher and keening, and plunged again - this time even closer to our boat - it's yellow eyes rolling back into it's head. my mom and i were dumbfounded and could only manage "wow"s and "holy"s. the eagle missed the fish again. at this point it seemed to finally notice us and looked at us menacingly, as though it thought we were to blame for it's failed hunt. instead of flying away, it did something i am quite rationally aware of eagles not being able to do. it folded up it's wings and sat bobbing on the surface of the ocean, then began swimming towards us, eyes huge and wings wet. he even looked a bit muddy or oily. as he got closer, i realized that he was at least the size of my mom. huge. he stared and stared and mom and i began clutching at one another, terrified. his beak was sharp enough to make a mess of our dinghy. the look in his eyes was murderous. we were far, far from the houseboat. but luck was in our favour, or perhaps the eagle changed his mind. he floated past us, not even a few feet away, and continued floating. his eyes were trained on us the whole time, but he made no move to attack. mother and i rowed the dingy to shore, relieved, and then found ourselves unable to make our way back to where we'd started from. lost in a huge, endless, urban-style cement parkade on cortes island, filled with tourists and elevators that made no sense. their buttons said things like, "april 5.5" and "several stories up from the tea party."