Saturday, October 15, 2011

Manning The Oars






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Last night I dreamed that there were two Batmans. The good one and his evil twin. But the evil batman was the Bruce Wayne guy, the rich and successful one, the one who helped society and gave money to the orphans and lived in a high rise penthouse overlooking Gotham. When the evil Batman got in his costume, he was huge and powerful and malevolent, mocking and derisive and as cruel as nature.

The good batman was a criminal for his day job, and he used all that inside information to try to strike a blow for justice when he was in his Batman costume. But his Batman costume was weak-sauce compared to the evil Batman's. He didn't have a jet pack or a rocket car or anything like that. He took the bus. Nobody really gave him a second look, his Batman persona was just a joke. People saw him and thought, "Crazy guy on the bus, don't sit next to him, just hang on to the strap or go sit next to that fat guy who smells bad."

Plus, the good Batman would always give the bad guys a break. He'd rescue the innocent when he could, and make things right, but when it came time to whomp up on the bad guy, the good Batman would just shake his head and sigh. Maybe he'd lock a guy up to a lamppost or something, you know, throw his car keys into the river, but that was about it.

He wouldn't even lecture the guy.


Then in the morning he'd go back to his life of petty crime, which he was also kind of terrible at.


Bruce Wayne thought all of this was just about the funniest thing ever. He laughed all the time, it cracked him up.



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It's a quiet morning so far. The deck is wet from a heavy, spitting kind of morning drizzle, not quite rain, not quite fog alone. I've got some dark, hot, bitter coffee in me and I can hear the woman starting up in the other room, getting ready to paint I think.


I better go give her a hand.



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I had this weather running through me all weak( hmm....freudian slip much?), anxious and worried, like there was something big I'd neglected to do.


Then, just like that, it blew out of town, left me feeling like it does after a good rain.



*




I won't ever figure myself out, I don't guess.




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Namaste.




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14 Comments:

Blogger Ms. Moon said...

I am glad for all of the Good Batmans. I think there may be more than one.
And hell, I don't know where my storms and calms come from either. I just hold on during the storms and don't kill myself and try to believe that the calm will come and it does and there you go.
What else can you do?

9:47 AM  
Blogger Steph(anie) said...

I dreamed that kids who died, who otherwise would have gone to juvie, went to a version of hell that was more of a huge halfway house with different wings for different age groups. They all learned from eachother (good and bad) but mostly made good. It was a beautiful house actually, and they got there by train. Now that I think of it, maybe it was like a petty criminal's version of Hogwarts.

10:10 AM  
Blogger LKD said...

After my father died, I had a dream while I was awake that a row boat oared slowly by my father drifted over my head.

I was not at the bottom of the lake. He was at the top of the room, floating near the ceiling.

In your post about us tricking our minds and vice versa below, I wanted to comment but didn't.

I wanted to tell you that when I was four years old, I saw an angel. Floating over my head. Beautiful. Fiercely lit. The whole room glowed with her light.

I believed almost literally in god until I was 19. That's when he left me. And vice versa.

I started praying this past year. For my brother. I was never a regular prayer even when I did believe in god. So, it was a new experience for me, this shutting off the light and talking out loud to the dark room, not begging for mercy so much as merely asking for a little.

I still recite the serenity prayer every night. And the Jesus prayer. I find the utterance of those words out loud to no one in particular or everyone specifically, to my higher power, or, to, ultimately, myself, very steadying.

I feel like I've righted myself as if I was a picture hanging crooked on the wall.

I still don't believe in god.

But this prayer thing? It's a candle. I light it then blow it out every night.

Amen, brother.

Loving that creamy spiritually marriage of words, dude. Loving it.

Loving the art, too. In particular, those fighting dogs.

Flumm, brother.

My word verification is flumm.

11:31 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

all i can say is wow...love all of this....the words, the new directions you send my brain and the inciteful comments---wow
allene
ps-mespent-my word verification.

12:20 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Ms. Moon-

I think probably there are a lot of batmans out there. I hope so.

2:36 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Steph-


Hogwarts would be good for all of us, I reckon.

2:37 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Laurel-

I never saw an angel, but I saw a ghost one time. I can feel your father and your brother hanging around you all the way from here.

You are on a path, sister. It is a hazardous way to go.

It requires that you have a great measure of compassion.

For others, for yourself.


ah, but you know all this....


yrs-


tearful

2:39 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Allene-


I don't know what the hell I'm talking about, but I sure enjoy talking about it!

Ha.


yrs-


Scott

2:39 PM  
Blogger Elisabeth said...

Fantastic dream, Dishwasher, and if, like me, you think of dreams as telling you something about yourself then it's clear cut in a way: a good guy you, whom I like the sound of very much, and a bad guy you who needs a bit of tempering perhaps.

It's a dream though, your dream. It belongs to you. It's just so lyrical and I enjoy reading about other people's dreams. They often inspire my own.

Lovely writing, as ever, Dishwasher. Thanks.

6:43 PM  
Blogger Petit fleur said...

That is one detailed dream. It's funny how some dreams are like that, and some are just pure nonsense.

I am really intrigued by the art piece you chose to go with the writing. I have a recurring dream of a house in the middle of the ocean. It is looks and feels like an old Roman ruin or something and water is about ankle deep anywhere you walk. It is so beautiful and frightening at the same time because it IS in the middle of the ocean and I'm always there by myself feeling slightly panicked and enjoying the sheer odd beauty of it. Anyway, I felt a slight recognition when I saw your art this morning. Thank you.

Cheers.
pf

7:09 AM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Elisabeth-

Yeah, my dream life, it's like a whole extra life for free. One in which anything can happen, and does.

I love my dream life. Love it.


thanks for your thoughts, and your company.


yrs-


tearful

10:46 AM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

PF-

I love that dream! Sounds so incredibly awesome and haunting and good.


Much better than spinning to earth in a burning plane, which is one I have often.


all best-

tearful

10:47 AM  
Blogger Angella Lister said...

dear scott,

been hella distracted. but do want to let you know i love that picture you made powerfully.

love.

7:27 AM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Angella-


thanks.


i hope things settle down for you and you can take a well deserved break.


love back atcha-


Scott

6:36 PM  

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