Thursday, December 20, 2012

Sleep: Valuable Commodity or Waste of Time?

   Laying there staring at the ceiling, my breathing grows more shallow. The room was dark. Steady and dark. The sound of the wind roaring through the open window made me laugh inside. I could hear the trees talking through their leaves.
   "Marry, Fuck, Kill.........Larry, Curly, Moe?", I asked to the open air.
   "That is too hard. I mean Curly seems crazy, but he was the good looking one", it answered back.
   "Marry, Fuck, Kill......Gene Hackman, Bill Murray, Danny Glover?"
   "Well, one of them is black."
   "WOW!!!!! Just wow", my thoughts astound me. Then, I was out. Asleep. Darkness.
   The curtains open. The play begins. I'm sitting in a closet, talking wildly, with a bottle of Cab Sav in my hand. I'm astounded by the amount of shoes. If anyone knows me. They know I have a thing for women's shoes. Not like a fetish wherein there is a need to have sex, or sniff, or rub them on any part of my body. They just interest me. So many shapes, sizes, styles, colors, patterns, it is overwhelming and delicious all at the same time. I don't know what I'm talking about, but she is laughing. Laughing hard. Laughing, rolling on the bed, and for a moment I see her feet up in the air as she laughs holding her stomach in a fetal position.
   Act two. It's an apartment living room brought to you by IKEA. The smell of chicken, mixed with clean white walls, makes me comfortable. The TV plays a movie about a drug deal gone bad, and the overacting has caused me to stare at the side of her face. Do you remember when you were a kid, you would go to the store, and they would give you a helium balloon? You would play a game with yourself of letting go of the balloon and watching it float just barely out of reach. Then, quickly you would snatch it. We are playing that game. She moves close, we make out. She wants more. I interrupt it with a swig of wine. She moves away a bit. I grab her feet, and rub them. She moves closer and kisses me on the cheek. I reach for her lips, she drinks wine. She moves her legs off my lap. I grab her by the back of the neck. We kiss deeply, and madly, and stop.
   Act Three. The final act. I can see mirrors. I can see all angles. Like an ethereal being. She is taking me into her mouth. I can float around the room enjoying it from every view. I turn her over and force myself inside.
   "FUCK!!!!", she whisper yells. I can see all sides. All positions. Sweat pouring off of both of us. Our eyes rolling. Our mouths grinning. I watch us stop and laugh. I am floating at ceiling heights. I can see her look almost through me, as my mouth works its way down between her legs. She isn't looking down at me, but up, at my eagle's nest viewpoint. Her back arches, her tits point to the sky, her arms support her, and her mouth opens like she is going to take in the entire world. Instead, she lets it out. I can see everything at all times.
   Light shines into my bedroom window. The dogs are way too eager to wake me up. I let out my stretch and decide to join the day. I walk into the bathroom in all my sarcastic nude splendor. Look at myself in the mirror.
   "Just because it seems like a dream, doesn't mean it didn't happen."

  
  

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