Work Text:
Some days I just need to take a nap, but I'm terrified of going to sleep. I doubt very much it is a natural thing to close your eyes and that all that unusual gloom appears from any uncertain place, such as surprises and lies. Sometimes I feel like a hostage when I'm in the dark, but I like that feeling; like a pretentious Machiavellian whisper down my spine.
But when I'm merely dreaming, and I mean being in a dream, everything changes. A polychromatic world that refuses to follow the laws of physics, which incidentally were created by mere humans with prodigious minds, takes place. That mystical world is full of my memories, where an omniscient chorus is in charge of naming them, storing them, and making them reach those amorphous lips that I possess without flinching. Thousands of memories that are waiting to be told and heard, so many to choose from and that could even have the meaning of the origin of the universe. But, I will only tell you one.
One day (or night) I was in that colorful dream world, I felt as if I was delirious somewhere in the rational world, but I knew my physical body was sleeping peacefully in my soft feather bed with my cats. I could perceive an odd crooked sound coming from the distance, up the mountain of candy and across the river of vodka. The rousing sound was extremely familiar, as if at the time of giving birth together with that bloody mixture of matter that dying sound was expelled along with me.
I could feel it run through the greyish hairs that adorn my body like a shot of heroin. That's where I decided to seek it, to see face to face that unusual murmur that lulled the din of the wind. I ran across the mountain until my legs decided to perform a coup against me, and I never forgave them for it, causing me to fall and hit my god-sculpted face with the quagmire and I etched it from the ground - I prayed to all gods known and unknown that I did get uninfected with some rare pathogenic bacteria. It was there that I noticed that my right hand was bleeding and oozing a yellowish fluid. I could not comprehend what my bad luck was due to, I probably urinated in some grave or in sacred land as a child; nothing mattered anymore, it hurt like a kick in the butt.
When the pain was completely removed from my body and good sense entered where it pleased, I could detect a small spot, like a smudge, on my thumb. It was a cow. A tiny, starving cow embedded in my thumb, bellowing there like there was no tomorrow. It was she who emitted the disgusting and repulsive sound. I tried pulling her out of that wrong place, but something inside me started to hurt and with fright and alienation I left her just as she was. How would I live with that thing inside of me? How did it get here? I couldn't stand her. I wanted her to go away and leave me alone. How would I explain it to my dear mother? Most likely it would get me out of the house. I couldn't live with the shame.
Without specific warning I woke up, my vision was not the best and my head would not stop spinning, my back ached horrors. I instantly noticed a detail, a minor detail: I was in the middle of dance rehearsal for the comeback song. Kun, with his characteristic calm and with the instinctive feeling that he was already fed up with me and that it didn't matter how I was going to make up for it in bed that night, had projected one of his shoes at me to wake me up. The other boys looked at me stunned and somewhat amused. Apparently, I had fallen asleep in a very wrong place.