08-26-2017, 09:57 AM
When I get drunk or get drugs I dream normal unconscious dreams. I dream moral dreams. I dream about Veronica Cartwright. I lust for her as she looked in Invasion of the Body Snatchers but she looks and is, in my dreams, the child she was in the The Twilight Zone episode: I Sing the Body Electric, a Bradbury story named after a Whitman poem. I say, Veronica Cartwright, I know you were born in 1949, and are a lot older than me, but whenever I meet you you're like eleven years old, and I don't know if it's OK to have sex with you when you're eleven years old even though you are almost sixty years older than me. Then I die, and wake up.
Veronica Cartwright and Bibi Andersson are my dream girls. I don't care how old they are. And Jenny Agutter. I don't care if they're 90 years old. My dreams are their property. And Vivien Leigh is the God of my dreams. She's the goddess, but she's god. She created the world and rested on the 7th day. Vivien Leigh wrote the bible of my dreams, and tutored Freud, and was the anima Jung talked about. She was Cleopatra and Scarlett O'Hara and Blanche DuBois and Zooey Deschanel and Alison Brie and my mom and my wife and my daughter and every woman in history and beyond. When I dream Vivien Leigh has servants who answer the phone. Vivien Leigh is all the Greek and Roman goddesses and Pamela Anderson. Vivien Leigh is all the female characters in The Dark Crystal and Mrs. Frisby in the book version of The Secret of N.I.M.H. in my dreams. She is all the Gilmore Girls. Somebody said: There is a god and it's Aristophenes, Harold Bloom said there is a god and it's Shakespeare, I say, there is a god and it's Vivien Leigh.
And a man can dream.
And for those who think to themselves that this is weird or creepy, I say I'd dig up Vivien Leigh and make the most of what's left of her. So go fuck yourself. I know I will.
Veronica Cartwright and Bibi Andersson are my dream girls. I don't care how old they are. And Jenny Agutter. I don't care if they're 90 years old. My dreams are their property. And Vivien Leigh is the God of my dreams. She's the goddess, but she's god. She created the world and rested on the 7th day. Vivien Leigh wrote the bible of my dreams, and tutored Freud, and was the anima Jung talked about. She was Cleopatra and Scarlett O'Hara and Blanche DuBois and Zooey Deschanel and Alison Brie and my mom and my wife and my daughter and every woman in history and beyond. When I dream Vivien Leigh has servants who answer the phone. Vivien Leigh is all the Greek and Roman goddesses and Pamela Anderson. Vivien Leigh is all the female characters in The Dark Crystal and Mrs. Frisby in the book version of The Secret of N.I.M.H. in my dreams. She is all the Gilmore Girls. Somebody said: There is a god and it's Aristophenes, Harold Bloom said there is a god and it's Shakespeare, I say, there is a god and it's Vivien Leigh.
And a man can dream.
And for those who think to themselves that this is weird or creepy, I say I'd dig up Vivien Leigh and make the most of what's left of her. So go fuck yourself. I know I will.