So the other night I had this dream that Monica, Patrick (who is Monica’s friend and I have never met but have seen pictures of), and I were playing on this playground after winning some crazy boat race or something. That part of the dream is a little fuzzy. Patrick in the dream didn’t look like Patrick in real life; he looked more like Phillip Seymour Hoffman, which is very funny because it is almost the exact opposite of real Patrick. Anyway we had this tent thing that we draped over a round climby thing on the playground and were playing fort. Fort rules.
So we are in our fort having an awesome time when this little kid comes in. The kid’s dad is standing on the sidelines of the playground watching. The kid looks up at us and asks how old we are. I say 28, Monica says 29, and Patrick says 30 (I have no idea how old he really is). The kid looks at us and says, “Oh, that’s old. I’m 4. What are you doing in this fort?” We just looked at the kid and then at each other and packed up in shame. Then some other strange dream type stuff happened that I don’t remember. I think that the remembered part was the important part though.
The thing was my dream kind of hurt my feelings. I mean sure, I like to play around but I think my friends and I are fine examples of people in their late 20s. We have jobs, we pay rent, we function as adults, and we are generally accepted to be grown type folks. So what if we like forts? Who doesn’t? Just cause we don’t have kids of our own to play fort with doesn’t mean we should be shut out from playing. Play is important. Anyway, I’m mad at my dream.
1. Identity/ Identity is the crisis you can’t see/ Identity/ Identity
2. Did I/ See a moment/ With you/ In a half-lit world
3. Ghost, ghost I know you live within me/ Feel as you fly/ In thunderclouds above the city/ Into one that I
4. I’m tired of wasting gas living above the planet/ Mister show me the way to earth/ The boys from quadrant 44 with their vicious metal hounds don’t come round here no more.
5. Downtown/ We’ll drown/ We’re in our never splendor/ Flowers/ Showers/ Who’s got the new boy gender