Adonis Diaries

Archive for September 4th, 2021

“I’m hip to their game, hip to the science of war
Propaganda makes me fight but what am I fightin for?
My way of life? Beans and rice? Give and take, less or more?
See through the eyes of the poor, plus I’m black to the core
Ignorance is on tour bookin stadiums and more
The days of Hitler painted pictures patriotic before
You raise your flag on a land snatched from bald eagles claw, and stamp the symbol on your currency to finance your war.
I’m sayign no.
Not in my name.
Not in my life.
Not by my hands.
That ain’t my fight.
Not in my name.

You wage your war against terrorists and violence, and try to wave your guns and fear us all into silence.

NO.”
— Saul Williams

Note: I posted a poem on war in 1998 “I am going hunting”

I have posted half a dozen of my nightmarish dreams a long time ago. I had more patience then, and I conjectured that recounting these dreams in details might improve the quality of my dreams.

Actually, I need to remind myself that daily events are Not that bad after all.

I presume many people died of heart attack after horror stories that night dreams can weave. The next day, people would say that the person died peacefully in his bed.

I woke up at 2 am. For a month now the entire country is out of electricity from 1 am to 7 am because the public and private providers lack diesel fuel (mazout)

I don’t know what to do and cannot fall back to sleep.

I am wandering from room to room and eventually had a couple of smoke on the balcony and waiting for dawn.

I returned to my bed and have no idea when I fell to sleep. I know for sure that I woke up at 6 am

How I landed in my familiar town is irrelevant to my brain. I find myself walking one of the familiar street. Usually the town is sunny, hot and dry when I dream of it.

This time around it was blanketed with a foot thick of snow, Not regular even the harshest of winter.

No it is Not a beautiful layer of white snow: it is more like walking on muddy street and melting water flowing in abundance on the side.

I am Not dressed and equipped for that environment and my shoes are of the thin soft kinds.

I am walking and dozens of huge mammal animals with long horns are strewn dead in the street. I am shocked since these mammals I used to much harsher climate.

I took a side street to avoid this horror sight. It is much worse: those dead animals are far many and covered with transparent plastic sheets. I could hear and feel many smaller animals moving under the sheets.

People are busy covering the dead animals. People are plowing their garden. Children are picking up and gathering their little chicken and other home specimen.

And the street is a dead end and I cannot jump the high wall. I had to reverse my walk. I am on another side street that should lead to another main street.

Strange. A seasonal festival is in progress with large tents, smaller tents and no tents. And people are having good time.

As if a scheduled festival cannot be postponed.

People are looking up the sky. A few fighter jets are screaming overhead and ejecting what looked like soundless missiles. And a huge structure is dropped from the sky.

Slowly, this large package appears as made of heavy dark green tissues, like the ones the children play inside them.

I am worried that this package might land on me. It landed peacefully where it was intended to land. Four young girls had prepared the landing pad, as if using a remote control.

A minute later, this huge package is transformed into two poles, 3 feet high and 6 feet in distance and bandoleer is flapping asking for donation to what I read was a good cause.

I am wandering in that festival and visiting a few stands with much difficulties from the slush and obstacles. Strange, my shoes are Not even wet, otherwise I might have awaken much earlier and be saved from all that crap and horror.

I took another main street, supposedly leading to my former apartment and wondering that I don’t have the keys and will have hard time getting in for some warmth and badly needed rest.

Suddenly, I am transported to another city.

All the kids are black and it seemed this was an industrial city (Pittsburgh?). All the constructions are in brown steel and mostly rotting.

The 4 kids are waiting for the bus and they applaud as this transport stops. It turned out to be an old slow train.

I asked the kids if this train heads toward my town, and they say it is far and in an eastward direction. I asked them whether they can warn me at the proper station, closest to the town.

One kid said he would be satisfied with some remuneration, kind of baksheesh.

The kids and I are now standing at the far side of the train with open ending, and the kids are playing with a green outside lever that I thought was meant to change rail to another direction. This lever moved back and forth but did Not function.

I see a nasty black man standing on a street and slashing passerby with a large cutter. One person told him to cut it out and produced an even longer and larger cutter to cool him down.

This cutter holding nasty man is advancing toward us as the train is slowing down and is intent on slashing me since I was the one at the extreme end.

It had no defenses and the kids were kind of pushing me out.

I had to wake up.

My eyelids are very heavy and I feel like closing them again.

And I am transported to yet another dreary city, in Bangladesh/India/Pakistan… From afar, this city looks peaceful and slightly green in square plots.

The nearer the train approach from this square allotment for houses the drearier they appear. The trees are dusty and shrivel and the grass is drying up, and very few people give the semblance that this stretched city is inhabited.

I am slowly opening and slowly closing my eyelids and fearing that I might fall asleep again and resume this dreary adventure.

I made a valiant effort and got out of bed, still groggy, but happy that I am alive for another day.

I had to take a long, long walk.

Note: In many of my dreams I am hopping from a dirty toilet to a dirtier one, and imagining any corner or hole as a proper pissoire. Until I learned that it is about time to wake up and use a proper and clean toilet.


adonis49

adonis49

adonis49

September 2021
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