nightmare

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So I woke up at 6:30am. That means I didn't get any REM and that means airhead who will drop for a nap no matter how much coffee I guzzle. Sometimes I suspect my sleep disorders are about avoiding my own higher sight. It's rapping at the back of my eyeballs for me to look in and I'm like, "Who? Me?" and a bolt of hysteria drags me out of my own way instead.

I'd stumbled upon some kids hiphopping up that song last night while trying to find a not YouTube for anyone in Iran, and, yes, I had two drinks in me, and, yes, I'd been beside myself all week, and, yes, I had just had myself a good cry in public, emotional old broad, but something about the combination of these hiphoppers' heedless assurance and their ridiculous youth, that prideful blankness, that terrifying hauteur of ignorance, that aimless self-infatuation, that hardness that wants the world to parent, that I'm-not-finding-le-mot-juste for the thing, made this momentary blast of something like hate come from my belly and out my eyes. Almost lightning, but with a laser quality to it. Just a flash, but unmistakable and not deniable. I didn't dwell on it. Just immediately resolved to not bite, to deal with it the way any ancient might have, to completely let go of it and get to the point where I don't even have any knowledge of not holding on to it.

When my nap took me today, I very quickly was in front of myself, only the self I was in front of was a little boy, and his arm shot out to strangle me as fast as that bolt of hate had had shot out to burn him last night. It woke me right back up and I immediately closed my eyes again to a kaleidoscopic array of every cartoon character I have ever seen since earliest childhood.

So, well, if you want to be Jungian, I guess my inner child is a boy, but if yer into Zen, you might grok that the true self has no age and no gender and no form, so you're going to want to let that little communiqué simmer for a while....