Action of dreams
I saw an old friend of mine in my dream last night. I haven't had the chance to see him again in a very long time, probably about two years in person, but occasionally return a message back and forth on Instagram.
He wrote two books of poetry and essays - in the dream. I read his poems in the shapeshifting bookstore I was in and was impressed by the use of concrete structure while still maintaining narrative and imaginal elements. His first book was about 300 pages if I had to guess. His second book was about 350. I skimmed it a bit more and then decided on buying both books to give them a fair chance. Even if I didn't love them after, I could always email him and discuss what I thought. The cashier working the till was my girlfriend's coworker and I asked if she was liking the new job, but she couldn't stay awake long enough at the register to answer.
For a couple minutes after waking up I was sure I had left them on the coffee table to read later. Some dull disappointment passed through me after I realized it really was just the dream. I think I will reach out and tell him about this. If he is writing something, this might be a good kick to keep going. He might enjoy to know he is still thought of.
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I listened to James Ferraro's NYC, Hell 3:00AM a couple times last week. The best part is the intro track repeating the word "money" eighteen times before any note is played. That's what I imagine it must be like.
