Last night I had a dream I was at a party in Austin Texas and met Michael Malice. I've been devouring his work over the last month or two and I guess subconciously want to meet the guy. I've had many dreams like this over the course of my life. The last one, I rememember, was the band Magic City Hippies, composed of Robbie hunter, Pat Howard andJohn Coughlin. I'm fortunate to have been able to meet Robbie Hunter at a MCH concert at the Metro in Chicago. He was a lovely human and I'm grateful to have met him. But that didn't stop me from having a dream that the band wanted to meet me, and invite me on tour with them. The mornings after these dreams are always acutely painful, a mix of pain that the dream wasn't real, that It's just me in my bed telling myself lies in my dream to cope with the fact that I'm getting nowhere in life, and also embarrassment that I fantasize about these famous people picking me up off the street and mentoring me.
I've never me tMichael Malice. I don't know the man. I only know him through his books and interviews. It's just plain wierd for me to dream about one day that I could meet him and that he would like me or want to be my friend. Then, of course it is always tinged with the bitter disgusting feeling of "Please, please Michael, help me. Help me not be a dishwashing fool anymore. Help me figure out a way to escape this brutal late 20s feeling of being completely and permanently worthless... Can I have a job?? Please, anything. Will You rewteet me??" How truly embarrasing and disgusting. Or at least that is the way it feels in my head.I've had dreams like this forever. A lot of parasocial dreams. In the dream it is always "Finally!! I KNEW I was cool and compelling! Finally my favorite person sees!! I have hope in the world! OF course! I'm the person that Magic City Hippies has been searching for." Then I wake up groggy and lazy, back into my real life where there are no Michael Malices or Magic City Hippies. Just one big immovable inescapable Cheo.
Sometimes it has been the dream of a woman I loved (or was just infatuated with). In the dreams she finally realizes that she likes me, even though I always thought there was no chance. These dreams are very painful. I wake up and wish I could go back to sleep forever. But I can't and even worse. I am left alone with only the knowledge that I'm a fool for having dreamt the thing. Embarassment and shame. And I didn't even dream it up on purpose. It just happened that way, almost like some other force planted it there just to confuse and hurt me. That alwasys sucks.
I have such a confidence in my potential and my strengths. But I also swing violently back and forth between "Watch this, it's never been done before, but I'm the best person for the job. " to "I'm crazy. I've been crazy this whole time. All my dreams aren't dreams, they are delusions.I belong in the lowest tier of society. i will never earn more than 20 bucks an hour. And I deserve to be unloved."
What a conundrum!