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Thursday, October 18, 2012

you, rye and knowles




Dreams are strange. They make us feel like its real life when the truth is life never feels so alive. Only memory does come to think of it, this weird mixture of holes, nothing is a coherent whole not even the plot holes. A conscious way of finding out if you are dreaming is to ask yourself how you came to be in that situation. How did I leave the house naked? What did I tell this beautiful woman so that she’s so into me? How did I learn to fly?, in retrospect it’s more like being really, really drunk; how did I come to be in my bed at home? Where the hell am I? What did I tell this beautiful woman that she’s so into me? In my youth I used to move around a lot in my sleep. I could turn completely over in a night; my blankets flung this way and that, sweating from the exertion of my night-time life. My dreams felt that real.

When I was really young I used to have this recurring dream. Well not the whole dream because I can only remember the end. I remember sunlight and being outside and really needing to go. I needed to take the piss out of myself so, in the sun, I would take out little, little me(I was very young in those days-one little refers to me instead of to my flag.) then, even in the dream I would anticipate the release then I would just let go and immediately I would wake up. This was my first kind of wet dream. My underwear and my pyjamas would be soaked with urine and I knew I would have to get it in the morning. When we were young we used to bathe at night, when you pee your bed you have to bathe again before you go to school and this would be red alarm to my brother and sister. (There's a part of this story i can't remember, am not sure anymore what would happen between the waking up having peed and the next morning, did i stew in it? more likely i just got a wipe-down and a back to bed but am not sure.) If the water is running in the morning it means it was running at night for someone. Eventually I learned to control it. But before I learned to control it I found out how to know I was dreaming. Am not sure what the thought process was, it just became so instinctual that my eyes would shoot open just as I was contemplating sweet release then I would walk to the toilet and relieve myself. Soon it became instinctual to just wake up and I never had those dreams again and now I never know that it's just a dream.

My cousin was about four years old as we drove around with her one day. She still wore diapers and I looked over at her and there was this look of intense concentration on her face.
“What’s up?”
“I want to pee.”
“Ok.”
“I have my diapers and am trying but it’s just not coming out.”
She was in the middle of that urinal freeze that everyone experiences once in a while. You need to pee and you go to the urinal and it’s crowded. Then someone leaves and you take their space and you  need to go except you can’t. Other people want to so you have to go really fast but you can’t and you stand there willing the flow out but you can't!. Then you ineffectually shake and leave the urinal. Sometimes it’s hard to go when there are people around.

I was in boarding school for a year and I used to sleep in the top bunk. This is something that many people in form one go through, the bottom is reserved for the senior boys. There are such a number of disadvantages with being on top, like in everything else in life it takes so much more work and effort. Every night you have to hoist yourself up and then bring yourself down. Your metal box filled with spices, cocoas, jams, margarines, utensils has to be lifted and put there so that the guys mopping the dorm have an easier time of it and then lifted and floored at night so you can sleep.

A new dorm was built that year and I moved there post-haste. I always liked living in new places with new combinations of people and conversations. The almighty what-if pulls me everywhere and when I moved here I got a bottom bunk. The bed was against the corner of the room and everything was good.

Then I woke up one day and my sheet was wet. My hands jumped to my pyjamas immediately and there was nothing there. Maybe it evaporated I reasoned (you see by this time I knew about a different kind of wet dream where this is entirely possible.) nevertheless the sheet still had to be dried. If I thought bathing in the morning at home was embarrassing this was on another level. I would fold up my beddings and begin the walk of shame to the line. On the way there I would tell everyone how dry my pyjamas were before anyone asked.

“But the pyjamas are dry so I can’t have wet my bed.”

Am not sure how many of them believed me but I wasn’t teased too heavily, definitely not as heavily as my flow seemed to be. They dried. Another night passed. I  woke up and my beddings were wet , my pyjama dry and my brain set to work.

The first clue was of course the dry pyjamas. The second was the uneven planning of my room. You see water would pool in the corner near my bed. The third was that when I woke up my sheets would be dragging across the floor.

So with a heavy heart I gave up the bottom bunk and I never had to take my beddings out again.