Mar. 10th, 2025

boccaderlupo: Fra' Lupo (Default)
I dreamed I met my family for dinner at an antiquated rest stop on the Parkway. They were all driving in a large SUV. I, instead, had a small plastic orb that I would squeeze my body into and would obey my mental commands, and I would roll along the roads with the greatest of ease. As we turned to leave, I saw miles and miles of traffic on the Parkway—huge, menacing vehicles of all kinds—and began to rethink my decision.

*

I dreamed my boss asked me to watch over his pets while he was away. They consisted of a very old, nearly lame white horse; a gaunt, aged pitt bull; and two younger, sprightly dogs. He explained that I was to "put them through their paces," a fitness routine he had devised for them, where they would jump up straight in the air on all four legs, then do a sort of push-up, and then again and again. I saw the old horse, in desperation, begin to jump. It was a sad spectacle, the animal's tongue half-hanging out of its mouth. Likewise the old pit bull, whose legs seemed to collapse underneath it when it landed.

My boss seemed unfazed by the goings-on. I wanted to tell him, "you're killing these beasts," but then he departed, and I was left to watch over them.

*

I dreamed the wife and I went to visit an old friend who had moved back to Brazil with her husband. It was in a kind of old suburb, homes closely set together. Despite the tropical foliage and heat, you wouldn't know you were in Brazil. We parked our car and got out, and went to the indicated home. Two little old wizened ladies stood at the door, and opened it for us. I tried my best to say thank you in my mangled Portugese.

"You're not gonna try and use that to speak with people, are you?" said one old lady with close-cropped hair, a tinge of a Queens accent. "We're Jewish."

"Jews of Brazil!" I replied in English, smiling. "How'd you end up coming down here?"

They just shrugged, and we went inside.

There were many floors and stairs in the beige, damp house. The first floor had about two feet of water. Many other people were there, all English speakers, as well; artists, it seemed, refugees. Our friend and her husband took us around and showed us our room. The air was humid and filled with strange bugs and spiders. A bevy of them had crawled up around my mouth, and one had stung me in my armpit. I swore to myself then that I would never return to this country.

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boccaderlupo

May 2025

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