i mean, not to do it justice, not to make it seem as important as it is to me. these dreams just squirm in my skull like snakes twist their coils about the cadacus. every time i try to start explaining it, it all comes out like pills, garbled & nonsensical. because see, there were plenty of reshuffling dreams too, like glial cells anchoring the rest in place. sex with jenny in sarah's bathroom which is also the high school's boiler room is a pastiche of 2005. the "frag the lieutenant" dream of running & shooting at mechnical spiders is doom ii recycled from early adolesence. but the rest of it was the real spine of the thing, the bone sheath that all the fragile parts run through. nothing but a hive mind romance. but how do you explain something that by its very virtue requires no communication? & even that dream had moments of meaningless plot. threatening & bribing the landlord of a warehouse for a place to build our hive, tunneling into the suburbs just to scare the satellites. but mostly our bodies pressed together within the chambers of the nest, mostly her dawning understanding. the throb of a single purpose, many functions. how am i suppposed to capture that with words on a sleepy, muddled morning? hey i don't know. the details fade the longer i'm out of bed, but the feeling doesn't. but then, that never leaves me, the loneliness of individuality.
also we were dressed all in geiger looking jumpsuits. be still my heart.