Waking Finnegan

“We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our whole life is rounded with a sleep” ~ Shakespeare

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Location: zurich, Switzerland

Thursday, December 02, 2004

December 1, 2004

Standing by the front counter at Floral Supply downtown Los Angeles. Nate Rubin shakes my hand--engulfs it-- hand feels disembodied barely there tiny--looking around for a carton of fuzzy bunnies that Juan ordered on the intercom. Can't find it after climbing to the ceiling level step-laddering the cartons. Vast stacks. I rearrange the boxes and make a concavity where I sit and continue reading a technical manual on Photoshop. But this is in the early 1970's; no PC's yet. Slightly wake up from the recognition and make note of this dream sequence.

At the check-out line in Coop, Zurich Central--store's floor all wet from a leak--when I get to the back its flooding in from the edges of a very large waterfall thundering into the Limmat River. Window broken and now the water is rising and only me and some personnel trying to stay afloat amidst the cello-packaged stuff all around. Can feel many suspended objects thumping me all around in the murky-dark and cold water foaming. Panic and disgust. Something grabs at my feet. A hand. Panic. Try to swim away before getting pulled under. Then hand gets fim grip and begins pulling me down. Water in my mouth and didn't get a big enough breath to hold and survive. Panic. Begin kicking but my pants pulled down tangled. Need to surface for air but can't. Slip out of jeans somehow and get free and swim up. Water nearly to ceiling now. Dark as hell barely can see. Sky-lights! Now water to ceiling and me only in sky-light space. Hurry and break the fucking glass! But can't get anything to brace and thrust upward with fist. Hand grabbing at my feet again. I kick downward to free myself, but person's scalp is loose like a long dead thing and slides off. No shoes and I feel the slippery scalp. Panic. No time no air.


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