Dreaming the Answers

If the beast screams at you, scream back at it. Then you wake up and assent, agreeing to do that; so what's the next step? To close your eyes. Take that pillow that always drifts about the bed and snuff it between your knees and soon enough you are in Bogotá. The prevalent question on your mind's eyes all day long was Why do I do the things I do? All those seemingly stupid, irresponsible, compromising acts that plague me for the rest of the day. Since you have as good a guess as anyone, (which isn't Really True,) you have been asking God all day long, c'mon, we have a predicament here, and since I've been running the tail of the cat for quite some time now, without any concrete "solutions," how 'bout giving me a hand here? And now you are back in this makeshift Bogotá of your subconscious mind, wondering around with your brother and, even though right now this whole thing seems to be somewhere in your pillow, (not the one between your knees,) entertaining some mites, at the time it was evolving it wasn't clear how you got a hold of that airplane. 

Because you are in the living room of the house of la cientocuarenta and suddenly you have hijacked an empty airplane in mid flight and, after getting a hold of it, you go to the cabin like it was still the living room and forget all about the plane. No wonder it was spinning out of control! You and your brother, and that girl who still makes no sense at all, maybe your female counterpart, don't seem all too worried; you just apologize, I forgot about that, I took this plane and we're heading straight to the ground, while they just freak out. But very calmly. The sight of a park speeding up towards the windshield doesn't make any of you scream, and somehow you manag to level that craft to the ground and crash it straight into the gates of that small residential complex, the one in la cientocuarenta where your dad lives, and destroy the front wall and the large metallic door where cars come in. Now you get anxious! 

You exit the rummages of that plane and see the watchman; Please, man, you have to help me here, this is so fucked! while your brother and that girl have that look on their faces, that When-dad gets-home look, and the watchman sympathetically, but in utter confusion, holds his head with his right hand, as if the plane hitting the façade of the building hurt him or something. An urban plane crash in broad daylight, luckily not many people are around, and the watchman gets on the front seat of that wreck and you get in there too. Soon you are driving it, as the sun sets, grinding the shards of metal under the cockpit over the asphalt. I imagine what the rush hour traffic must've thought! It turns out the sun wasn't setting, because as soon as you ditch that junked out air-o-plane on the side of what seemed to be calle cientotreintaynueve, paranoid of being seen by anyone, you return to calle cientocuarenta, the sun is shining and you know that it is the Light of Love shining for you, but you don't realize its Real candor. 

I think you were holding baby Natalia's hand, and she was all chatter, but you were trying to figure out what had happened. Driven by that necessity to explain your actions, consumed by the anxiety of seeing you dad once you arrive home, your brain turns over all stones to find how you got hold of the plane. And you find it; God told me to do it, and it is the Truth! Baby Natalia keeps chatting, talking about the airplane and you try to rush so people on streets don't catch a glimpse of what she's saying. When you got to her building in calle cientocuarentaydos, you tell her to forget it all and pat her rear up the stairs. 

Not three steps ahead, you realize the magnitude of God, of Her telling you that you heard Her correctly, He did tell you to crash that plane. Now the sunshine is so bright and calid, and right in front of Baby Natalia's building there is a metal fence; God, I will climb this fence for you, as if sensing that something on the other side of it will get you closer to the Light, but no sooner than you've climbed two meters, the fence bows down with your weight and gets higher. So you climb further, you won't give up. Still, the fence bows down even lower and gets even higher, and your own weight is pulling you downwards. This is the point of true devotion for you feel the twinge of defeat and brace up, keep climbing up that fence, I will not give up and fall down. 

Soon you are as high as the building next to the fence and over there, where the billboard starts you see Baby Natalia with a young indian-looking man; look, its him, he crashed the airplane! He sees nothing. Lovingly he condescends her, there is no one there on the fence, and you are holding on even while the fence keeps getting higher and higher. The Light embraces you and you decide never to give up; reaching the top, Baby Natalia smiles at you while waving and the young man is waving too. Then you disappear. 

Now there is no sunshine as you find yourself in your dad's house, a penumbra accentuated by black light and neon; he's waiting for you downstairs. No fear, you know God asked you to do it, to take that plane and crash it, and you are calm in Illumination. Walking down the stairs you see your dad slouching on a chair and Ana Maria is there too, but you aren't concerned. He utters something, its now becoming hazy. His discontent isn't yet violent, but you just tell him the truth and kiss him on the forehead, and even though he's angry, he gives in without reaction, rather with uneasy acceptance. They both get up and leave you there with your permanent smile. When you turn around to see where they went, you have to walk to a hallway and there he is, in the bath tub, singing the song that reminds you of when he used to hit you. Ana Maria walks past you naked, and you don't concentrate on her, just see her contour out of the corner of your eye. 

A few steps away and you are in tune with God and you are told to begin the process. So you find yourself in the underground foundry and mine, and a worker is handing you the bindings of a book forged in minerals, still cooling and composite crystals softening up on its surface. The title is already engraved on it: Problems with Polluting. Your last thought in communion with All is, now I must find all the tools, as you run your hand over the book cover, shaving off the crystal dust on the ground.