June 12th, 2023
Why do bad dreams seem like something bitches are more likely to have than happy-go-lucky folk?
Is it because we’re more negative, constantly fantasizing about worst case scenarios, violence and revenge? Is it a product of the same stress, tension, and fears that make us hyper-vigilant and high-strung? Or is it because underneath all of the bitchiness, we’re really motivated to find SOLUTIONS to problems, and idealistic about how the world SHOULD be, noticing and fixating on all of the ways things are no bueno?
I don’t know, but all three of those possibilities seem linked / are different ways of saying the same thing; bitches recognize problems and are alert to them. Our wheels are always spinning trying to work through shit that sucks, FEELING the unfairness and the dangers of wrongness: that behind every problem is at least one churlish insensate beast of a human hell-bent on shitting on others, and those people and their inconsiderate or intentionally-shitty traits are SCARY.
Whatever the reason, I had bad dreams last night, punctuated by repeated groggy wakings to the violent cries and chatter of coyotes nearby through the tiny open window above my head. I tried not to imagine them ripping up and fighting over fawns and neighbor cats who failed to go inside at night.*
Eventually I closed the window, inserted grubby waxen earplugs, and then opened the window again when I spotted a fire ant by my pillow, pinching it in a paper towel and throwing the whole wad outside.
So here it is, another day not started as early as I’d hoped for. Not getting that headstart of banking a few hours of solitude before all The “Normal” People wake up and ruin everything with their noises, judgments and tyrannical social demands.
I should be in a bad mood after the nightmares and late start, but the morning is too pretty to be mad at it. I pulled my filthy nightshirt over my head and ran outside naked, zooming around the yard, and in and out of the house laughing maniacally where my wife was trying to practice her bass.
Two hummingbirds just buzzed my open window. The construction fucks next door are terrorizing the neighborhood with HIDEOUS NOISE of their high-powered leaf blower, and it's not even ten o'clock yet. At least one fly is motoring around my greasy scalp because I have to keep this space cool and open to all manner of pests before it gets HOT in here, turning the loft where I prefer to sleep into a dry cracklebarn of dusty heat when it rises.
*Note: since I wrote this post, I learned that when you HEAR coyotes making noise, that really actually *is* them communicating with each other / truly is social chatter, NOT the "violence" of hunting and killing, which is done quietly (duh). Poor coyotes. Our imaginations are always feeding their bad reputations. A bitch should be able to relate to that unfairness, and not let it fuel her nightmares.
