On Bicycles and Darkness

Here is a dream I will tell you about. I thought about not saying anything about it, because it seems very personally and very painful--kind of--but then I looked at it again and I thought it was meaningless, so I wondered, what? Is this the inspiration I have been looking for?

Here is the dream. I am at home, lying in bed, and I have left my bicycle somewhere public. It is locked up, and the place seemed as though it would be a fine place to leave my bicycle for a day or a few days. There are nice people that walk by this place, and there are trees and flowers and things you associate with places that are okay places to leave your bicycle.

Let me tell you about this bicycle. Tony gave it to me. It was a gift from Tony, for some reason. It is an okay bike, not a really nice bike, but a very decent bike. Tony did not give me very much, so to have something from Tony made me, and it, feel very special. So in that, it is very valuable.

This was a very long dream. In a sense, a dream 30 years in the making with characters from the past who have become different people in my head through 30 years of daydreaming and them changing and becoming more complete in my imagination, in my subconscious, in my dreams that have worked together to build this new dream. The real people in the dream are probably not real people at all, if you want to know the truth.

Tony never gave me a bicycle. In real life, I gave Tony a bicycle. I built a bicycle for Tony from a frame and parts that I stole from nice suburban kids who didn't deserve to have their bikes molested by some drugged out 16 year old. But that's what happened in real life. That is not something that goes away when I wake up. But I gave Tony a bike, which is nice too. It's complicated.

But what happened in this new oddly constructed dream thing is that Curt, who didn't do anything wrong really, in the dream at least, he left this gift bicycle in some reasonable place, and now it's gone, and Tony who wasn't in the dream but who I guess was more of just an idea in the dream--a force if you will--is deeply injured because of it. The idea of Tony, you see?? The bicycle is gone. Tony, the big force, the dark cloud looming over my entire existence, turns darker. As if he didn't already have everything to be angry about. I cannot see the increasing darkness, but I can feel it. Very deeply and clearly, even in waking life.

Can you imagine? A horrible nightmare about a stolen bicycle?

Is that a song? Jesus.