2017/11/23 Thur

  1. dream 1: my mother finds out about C and argues with me. i wake up and forget all about what she’s said, but i know i haven’t won and feel my chest bursting with anger and sadness. the one thing i remember is her calling me a pervert, which she has done before. dream 2: i am sitting near a pond. it is so deep i can’t see the bottom, and there are fishes the size of cars swimming by, swallowing shiny white flesh. watching them, i get scared. a man sitting next to me puts his feet into the pond and says, ”this is a pond designed by me. see, the water is just over the ankle.” i look again and find the pond shallow as he’s described. just as my fear starts to subside, a woman tells me we have to come back tomorrow. we have to come back and see the pond. we have to do it everyday. i grow even more scared. then i realize we are trapped on the roof, behind an invisible glass window. roast turkey, vegetable stuffing, cranberry sauce, mixed greens, mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy.
  2. tall toast white chocolate mocha. is today my toast day? the bartender says, “max, i have your water,” and i can almost see a large dog trotting over. an elder couple order a venti iced coffee and ask another bartender for white sugar. behind the counter, someone is trying to do a british accent, “sugar!” i wonder if i will still drink iced coffee when i get old. it doesn’t seem too good for little kids either, so what is a reasonable age range of iced coffee drinking?
  3. key lime pie ice cream. C tells me her mother used to own a tiny kindergarten, between the time when she was in fourth and fifth grade. the kindergarten had a tiny slide. once her mother asked her to fill in the colors of a kindergarten poster, but she was already in fourth grade and didn’t like bright colors so the finished poster wasn’t what her mother had expected. her mother also took some pictures of her playing on the tiny slide, though by that time she had grown to be very unlike a kindergartener. i remember being carried out to do my primary school interview. i was five, already sound asleep when the teacher appeared in our living room. i don’t remember anything about the teacher or what i was asked during the interview, or why i had to go through an interview to enroll in a particular primary school (was later told it had been extremely popular). all i remember is being carried out from bed, lying in my mother’s arm, into my first failed interview and the first little piece of world that found me unqualified.
  4. 2 pieces of wheat bread with lite spam