I dream that I’m staying somewhere with my whole family, a vacation maybe? It’s a beautiful country house, with gardens and lemon trees. Unfortunately my room is also used as a slaughterhouse for pigs, everyone acts like it’s no big deal but I’m growing so upset I can barely talk without crying. I ask my dad when are we going back home, he’s unhappy I would even suggest that, he says we’ll stay until he says so.
I call my aunt and cousin and ask if I can stay with them instead. It’s not ideal because I don’t particularly like either of them, also it turns out they live in my old college apartment, my aunt actually bought it so they have a place to stay when they travel up north. At least, if they bought the apartment, my old landlady (the heinous bitch) won’t be here, right? Wrong! She’s decided my aunt duped her and she has a plan of action, let’s say murder isn’t off the table.
(It gets a little hazy from here, but I think Emperor Palpatine gets involved. And three thieves in a white van.)
I dream that I’m going to the mountains to see snow, but there is no snow. Instead, a beach of sand that looks like garden dirt and rough, deep lake water. People are sitting under umbrellas, children are playing and swimming, a journalist is interviewing an old man: he says he likes the sea but this is a good alternative. His son and daughter-in-law laugh as they say they threatened the owner to get a spot on this beach, it was worth it to see Dad happy. This angers me and I yell at them. A storm comes.
Then I dream that a friend from the other side of the world sent me an envelope full of stickers. As I go through them my dad asks if he can have some and tries to grab one, I say hold on, lemme check them first. He’s disappointed. I find in the envelope a bottle opener, then more and more stuff. I prepare a plastic bag with all the stuff, cleaning supplies I share between my mom and grandma, (Gran is enthusiastic, mom suspicious about the foreign labels,) DIY items that end up with a neighbor. Nothing for dad, he’s disappointed.
I dream that it’s the last week of school and I’m skipping it, again. ( I’m so fed up with this. Nothing like this ever happened, why do I keep dreaming about it??)
My dad drives me to school, parks in front of the building. I don’t want to go, I say, what’s the point? I don’t care about my grades. When he leaves, I go for a walk instead. It’s sunny, for a change.
I dream that I’m walking to the doctor with my dad. I realize I forgot my mask at home, but this is the chance to use the spare one I always carry in my bag. People around me are not bothering with a mask at all. My cousin is trying to steal my magazine pages to use for karate practice (that’s what my notes say, I don’t know!). Gran is also there, I’m mad at her because she won’t stay put at home.
I dream that the whole family is at a beach village, one of those Greek sea places with white houses and blue roofs. The sun is shining and it’s clearly summer, still groups of children are coming down stairs and alleys singing a Christmas song, I know it’s Greek because I recognize the world “aletheia”. Another group is singing in… Hebrew? That can’t be right, they don’t celebrate Christmas. Maybe they’re Copts.
As more and more relatives arrive I yearn to go back home and avoid them all, I beg my dad to drive me and he refuses. I walk instead, looking behind my back to see if he changed his mind. I fall asleep on a bench and when I wake up Dad has brought me home on his bicycle.
I want to take a shower but there’s a tray of burned cheese burgers in the bathroom, the smell is foul. My mom sits next to me on my bed and puts some sort of rust colored lotion on my face. Meanwhile, my brother is telling me that Dad is gonna take down our shower panels, that upsets me so much I throw a little, pathetic tantrum.
We sit around the table to eat dinner, both my grandmothers are here. My late grandma G. is slouching back on her chair, she looks like she has no bones and is about to plop on the floor any minute, like she’s made of jelly. I’m explaining to the both of them what 3D glasses are, isn’t it marvelous, I say, how everyone can now see holograms? They don’t really understand the concept. I say, imagine a big red billboard with the name of your favorite supermarket. With my glasses I also can see… I fish around for an actress they would recognize,
I can also see Sofia Loren projected on the billboard, waving at me.
After dinner, my brother attempts to hack into my phone to see if I ever visited a certain city. He’s not gonna find anything, I say confidently. He finds a panoramic photo that looks more like a painting. It’s from my point of view, it looks like I’m sitting in a shabby room. He changes the prospective and we gasp: on my lap there’s a dirty rat with a syringe stuck in its neck. It’s a terrifying close up.
Next I go to the store because it’s my old coworker S.’s birthday and we are planning a surprise party. I buy birthday cards and balloons from him, he doesn’t suspect a thing. I really need to pee though, and I’ll have to hold it because it’s not hygienic to use a public bathroom, Coronavirus and all. I can’t remember my credit card pin, I look it up on my phone, it’s the old Motorola my mom owned in 1997. It’s broken and I can’t seem to fix it and I really need to run home and pee. S. tries to fix it as well, he hands back something that is not my phone, I really don’t care, I grab it and…
I dream that Trump is doing an election rally and attendance is mandatory.It’s night and he’s a giant –as tall as a five-story building– I’m angry and disgusted and so scared. He talks and talks and I do something very brave: I grab one of his toes. He looks down with his giant, orange, awful face.
Don’t you agree with me?
he asks.
No, I don’t. Because you’re a cheating fucking LIAR!
The crowd cheers. MAGAs body slams me like it’s the NFL, my dad has to shove them off.
The day after a war is declared. We watch on TV as our soldiers (wearing Victorian uniforms complete with lace and capes) storm into an enemy’s church and slice up their victims with shiny sabers.
Our town is deserted, everybody is hiding at home.
Dad and I go for a walk and are stopped by two guards in fascist regalia, one young and one old. The young one orders me to smash a rock into my dad’s skull, just for funsies. I need to be smart. I turn to the old man, who looks like he’s caught into something bigger than him, and say,
Can I offer you tea instead?
Relieved, the old man accepts. The tea shop is empty though, the owners have left in a hurry. We go looking for them in the building and the young man chases us up the stairs, angry and yelling, until he trips and fall. I can hear him howling in pain below us. We find the tea shop owners hiding in the attic, they ask us how bad it is outside. It’s very bad, I tell them.
I go back home and Trump’s about to come home too, he’s my stepdad now. I’m appalled at my mom’s poor judgement. I shove food in my mouth and go hide in my room. I’m still terrified.
I dream that I’m walking out of a physiotherapist clinic, it’s dark outside and raining. My mom and dad are sitting in their car waiting for me, but when I approach they drive away in a rush, leaving me hanging. I’m incredibly upset about this. Another car stops by, it’s small, green and ancient. A group of relatives are sitting inside (a second cousin with her mother, mother-in-law and young son). They offer to drive me home, but I refuse: I’d rather stand here in the rain and make my parents feel guilty.
I dream that I’m hanging out with some friends. All we do is sit on some chairs in a giant room (sports hall?), sleep in the afternoons and eat fruit at night. It’s all very chill and nice. My dad is also sitting somewhere in the room, and looking at us disappointed.
I dream that my sister is back home, she’s sitting in the living room. I don’t want to have anything to do with her, I strip her bed to make sure she won’t be staying with me.
My cousin calls, she tells me they want to hire me back at the store. My mother is afraid it’s gonna be the night shift, but I’m gonna say yes, of course I’m gonna say yes.
I dream that I’m traveling with my siblings committing murders, and I’m taking notes of everything we do so I can write it all down on this blog (ha!). The police is growing suspicious so we ask our dad to pick us up. We wait for him on the shores of a small lake, marveling at how people swim and sunbathe just like it was an ocean.
I dream that I’m biking around town. I stop to pick up my late Grandma G’s doctor prescriptions. I have a little brother, 3 years old, and I’m convinced that he’s a genius. He’s able to locate every part of the body (armpits, chin, feet, hands) and count to twenty. Maybe we’ll have him skip kindergarten and go directly to primary school.
I dream that I’m going shopping, but first I need to pee. The bathrooms are located underground, I take an escalator and find myself in a long queue of girls. Maybe I can convince them to let me go first? I say out loud,
I REALLY FUCKING NEED TO PEE!
Another girl has said the exact same thing at the exact same time. We look at each other. Maybe we can share the toilet? One cheek each?
It’s our turn. The bathroom we step in is dark, gritty and enormous, with impossibly high ceilings, almost as if it was built from an underground cave. There are at least two toilets in the vast space, sitting high above the ground. A lot of people are watching, but I can’t afford to care. I need to go. I climb to the toilet and sit and… no pee comes out. How is it possible?
I have to wake up and run to the toilet for real.
I’m in a car with my whole family. My dad is driving, but he’s not paying the road any attention. Instead he’s reading something. I realize with horror it’s one of my old journals! Actually, all of my journals are here.
Furious at this invasion of my privacy, I grab them and get off the car. I end up in an old building, it’s dark and my old elementary teacher is there, wearing a black veil and smiling a wicked smile. She’s as ghastly as I remembered, I hate her so much I start to choke her. She seems to enjoy it. I have sex with her, it seems like the logic thing to do.
DECADE DREAM JOURNAL 