Dreamlies
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I dreamt about Leslie Mok last night. If you know them, you’d assume in reading that statement that I dreamt about them because I like their work/them. And I do. If you know both of us, it would seem I was regurgitating scenes from an acquaintanceship; the microscopic world we inhabit includes other people just like us. If you only know of them, you’d think the dream was a kind of wishful thinking. Maybe I had a fantasy.
In the dream—and this is kind of hard to follow, even for me—I was psyching myself out to call them to hang out or arrange to gig together, and decided I’d start the conversation with a text message that said:
I dreamt about you last night lol isn’t that hilarious?
In the dream, I ruminate and develop dream narratives to share with Leslie. Maybe in the dream, I tell them we are in Taiwan. No. That would be too on the nose. Maybe we were in the desert. Ugh no. Too romantic. Do I simply replace someone else I dreamt about and say it was them? That one time I dreamt Maia and I were on a mission to deliver a giant blue gift box on a boardwalk at water level, a riverside deck really, looking out at a night time cityscape that seemed impossibly deep and impossibly wide. Maybe. That one hits the right confluence of sincerity, dreaminess, urgency, and possibility.
The dream pushes us into the same place physically, and I tried to remember the lie I told to get them there, but now I am so preoccupied with the story I told I can’t hold their attention. I keep developing the lie as they disappear.
