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Lucid Dreaming

by admin on September 7th, 2015

 

Today we filmed a crucifixion. Light poor. Seven likes.

 

*

At 3 am she wakes. The sheets are damp from her sweat. The fan at the foot of the bed stirs the air around her. She walks out onto the balcony. The green and white lights of the city litter the hillside at her feet. She lights a cigarette. She checks her hand.

 

*

Hey

 

Hey

 

What’s happening?

 

Listening to Rihanna.

High heeled shoe emoticon – miniskirt emoticon – bouncing smile emoticon.

U?

 

Reading Emily Dickinson

Book emoticon. Sad moon emoticon. Football emoticon.

 

U don’t know how 2 do emoticons do U.

 

Nope. I’m bored.

 

U can stand under my umba rella.

 

Hey hey hey.

 

High five emoticon.

 

Annoyed face emoticon.

 

I’m in love.

 

Again?

 

Properly this time.

 

Sceptical face emoticon.

 

4 real!

 

Who?

 

The guy in the café? Heart emoticon. Bouncing smiley face emoticon.

 

Kassim?

 

Spunking cock emoticon.

 

Have you told him?

 

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

 

Good.

 

I need him.

 

Ur bad.

 

I need his cock NOW!

 

Life sucks.

 

Life sucks.

 

Miss u.

 

Miss u 2.

 

One day

 

One day.

 

*

At 3 am she smokes. In the building opposite, a middle aged man in a vest and striped pajama bottoms sits in an armchair. His apartment has no wall. She watches him and wonders if he’s dead or alive. It’s hot. He lifts his head slightly. His phone shadowed face glows green. She checks her hand.

 

*

Today we went round the musuem with sledgehammers. It reminded me of the Seabird Centre at North Berwick. I wondered if there had ever been a café. The glass cases were mostly empty. We smashed them anyway. I tried to get an interesting angle but it was dark. On the back wall there was a stone frieze of a flying lion. I told the lads to wait. There was a mess of electric cabling on the floor. Miraculously there was still power. I managed to recharge the camera battery and rig up a light. When the battery was charged we smashed the lion. Lots of likes.

 

*

Hey

 

Hey

 

I dreamed of a boy.

 

The boy in the café?

 

No – a boy in Beirut.

 

From that time we went to the club?

 

Yassssss! Dancing emoticon. Bouncing smiley face emoticon. Miniskirt emoticon. champagne emoticon.

 

I hated that night.

 

I loved that night.

 

Annoyed face emoticon.

 

U should of danced.

 

I DON’T dance.

 

U have a hot bod.

 

Fuck u!

 

HE had a hot bod.

 

OK. He was cute.

 

CUTE???? He was AMAAAAAAAAAAZING!

 

He was shallow.

 

SO!?

 

He talked about clothes?

 

Baby?

 

Quoi?

 

Not every person wants to talk about American Lady Poets. Clothes are important too.

 

Tounge in cheek emoticon. Fuck you emoticon.

 

Anyway I dreamed of him.

 

Sexy?

 

He was standing on a boat in St Georges bay. He couldn’t see me. I was waving.

 

Sad face emoticon.

 

It was nice to see him.

 

Life sucks.

 

I want to suck him!

 

UR bad!

 

One day

 

One day

 

*

At 3 am the world presents itself to her as if it were behind glass, as if it were an exhibit and she an observer, wandering the empty museum at night.

At 3 am she sings to herself. Very very quietly.

When the sun shines we shine together…

At 3am she throws her cigarette end down into the street.

 

*

Today we dug a baby out of the rubble of a house. She was burned all over. I managed to film as we lifted the stone from her chest. She was quiet and covered in dust. The father stood on a stone and was crying out to god. The mother must have been in there somewhere. We wrapped the baby in a foil blanket. We took her to hospital in the jeep. I uploaded the footage at Kassim’s café. Kassim showed me how to make Turkish coffee on the stove.

 

*

At 3 am A shaft of moonlight creeps over the bulletholes on the balcony wall. Smoke rises from her cigarette. A jeep rolls down the road below. She steps into the shadow. She checks her hand.

 

*

Hey

 

Hey.

 

Fucking hate this.

 

What you doing?

 

Reading reading reading. U?

 

Dancing dancing dancing.

 

Quoi?

 

Rihanna has a new album.

 

Hands over ears emoticon.

 

Fuck U! Rihanna is QUEEN!

 

Fuck U! Emily Dickinson is QUEEN!

 

Wish u cud hear.

 

Life sucks.

 

Life sucks.

 

One day.

 

One day.

 

*

At 3 am the world appears to her as if from behind glass, its sounds muffled, its meanings absent, her thoughts distant.

 

*

Today the sheikh said he has a girl for me to marry. I’m going to meet her on Friday.

 

*

At 3 am she writes short poems in her jotter. At 3 am she tears them out and folds them up like love notes. At 3 am she hides them in a sock in her underwear drawer. At 3 am she makes coffee and waits for dawn.

 

*

Hey

 

Hey

 

I read about Lucid Dreaming.

 

Que est que c’est?

 

Its when you dream but you know you’re dreaming so you can control your dream. So you can do anything you like. It’s like it’s real. I read it on facebook.

 

How do U do it?

 

First write a question mark on the back of your hand. Then when you catch notice of it U stop and U ask the question ‘Am I awake or am I dreaming.’

 

Aloud on in ur head?

 

In ur head.

 

Am I awake or am I dreaming?

 

That’s it.

 

So?

 

So what?

 

Are u awake or r u dreaming?

 

Ha ha! Nightmare. I am in a nightmare where my cities gone to shit & I’m getting bombed every day and I can’t get to Beirut!

 

Life sucks.

 

U?

 

I’m awake.

 

Ok so you have to say that out loud.

 

I’m awake.

 

Again.

 

I’M AWAKE!

 

OK. Now for the rest of the day just go about your business –

 

What business! I just sit on my ass in my room all day in the dark.

 

Ok. well… you sit on your ass in the dark and when you catch notice of the question mark ask yourself –

 

Am I awake or am I dreaming?

 

That’s it. So you do that 4 a few days & in they end it happens in a dream. You see a question mark on your hand in your dream and you ask

 

Am I awake or am I dreaming?

 

And then you realise… and you say, out loud, in your dream… ‘I’m dreaming’ And ur lucid.

 

Lucid?

 

It means ur in control of the dream. You can do what you like. You can make people appear. You can have sex. You can go places. You can do whatever it is that you would most like to do. Most people have sex or fly.

 

What is it you would most like to do?

 

Fly.

No, fuck…
No, fly…
Fly.
U?

 

See you.

 

Tongue in cheek emoticon. Heart emoticon. Wish you were here.

 

Wish that 2.

 

One day.

 

One day.

 

*

Today we dug trenches on the hill side. The Sheikh says we’re expecting an attack. I filmed in the morning. The light is better. I uploaded the footage at Kassim’s café. I told Kassim about Irn Bru. He said he’d see if his supplier could get some. I used a filter on the footage. Lots of likes.

 

*

At 3am a breeze drifts across the balcony. Gunfire scatters the silence. It sounds like her neice popping bubblewrap. She checks her hand.

 

*

Hey

 

Hey

 

Did u try it?

 

All day.

 

And?

 

Nothing. U?

 

No.

 

What you dream of last night?

 

Rubbish. Man with horse. New door in house. U?

 

My dreams are all about water.

 

Good water or bad water?

 

Floods

 

Cool.

 

Not cool. Drowning.

 

I want to fly.

 

Keep trying.

 

One day

 

One day

 

*

At 3 am the world presents itself to her as if it were behind glass, as if she were an exhibit in a glass case and out there in the enfolding dark archeologists were staring at her, trying to work out what she meant.

 

*

Today Celtic got through to the second round of the Europa league. I taught Kassim how to sing ‘The Fields of Athenrye.’ The café was quiet. We watched on my lap top.

 

*

Hey.

 

Hey.

 

Did you dream?

 

No luck.

 

U know. I was thinking. Lucid Dreaming. Being in another universe. A universe you can control. Seeing your boy on the boat. Flying to him. U know what it’s like.

 

What?

 

Poetry.

 

?

 

U shd write poetry.

 

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

 

U shd!

 

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

 

Ur BAD!

 

Oh Kassim!

 

Oh Kassim
Your eyes are like coffee.

 

Your butt is like two scoops of ice cream.

 

Your chest is like the plain of Nineveh!

 

Your voice is like humous!

 

Your laugh is like dawn

 

Your smile is like Rihannas smile on the cover of Good Girl Gone Bad

 

Ur Funny.

 

Me or Kassim?

 

U.

 

U shd write that poem for me.

 

I will.

 

He’ll think I wrote it. He will think I have soul.

 

Haha!

 

I will get in his pants.

 

Ur Bad.

 

One day.

 

One day.

 

*

Today we threw a homosexual off a grain silo. I tied myself to a pipe so I could lean out and get the shots of him falling. He was quiet. He kneeled at the edge. There was a lovely stretch of landscape in the background: road going winding away into the distance. The sheikh made a speech. The boy shouted.Then he fell. I uploaded the footage at Kassim’s café.

 

*

At 3am An American jet tears open the night. In it’s wake a trail of silent flashes scatter the hillside opposite. Each flash briefly illuminating a house, or rock, or forest. Then boom boom boom boom boom … dull thuds far away. In the silence after she hears starlings rising from their roost below then…sirens. She checks her hand.

 

*

Hey.

U can stand under my umba rella.

Hey hey hey.

Hey hey hey.

Bored.

Hey.

Sad face emoticon.

 

*

Today Kassim’s father told me Kassim has gone. He didn’t know where. Kassim’s father said there were four cans of Irn Bru in the fridge for me. Kassim’s father said Kassim told him to keep them for me as a wedding present. Kassim’s father has no idea where Kassim has gone.

 

*

At 3 am she calls to mind the dust on his hand making it seem grey. She calls to mind the question mark, still visible just above the knotted rope.

At 3 am the world presents itself to her as if from behind glass. As if a posting one could scroll past. As if a feed of which she has grown bored.

At 3 am she sits on the old deckchair and watches the sky lighten.

 

*

When the sun shines we shine together
You know we’ll still have each other.
You can stand under my umba rella.
Hey hey hey.

Miss u

x

One day.

 

*

Today the sheikh said there was a problem with the footage of the boy. When you play it back it’s clear he throws himself before he can be pushed. He rocks forward and tumbles before the sheikh can push. This is suicide which is a sin. The sheikh recommends we take the footage down. Before he falls the boy makes a shout which is in English. The sheikh asked me to translate.

 

*

Hey.

 

Hey.

 

Whassup.

 

Whassup.

 

Where u been? Me Bored! Angry face emoticon.

 

 

U there?

 

U been to the Café? How’s dream boy?

 

 

Hey?

 

Sister. Be careful what U say. We have his phone.

 

 

God is great.

 

God is great.

 

*

Today I checked the footage again. I played the moment back. I think the boy shouts. ‘I am dreaming’. The sheikh wants to know if this means something. It it a hashtag? I said it means nothing. Just shouting.

 

*

At 3 am she wakes. The sheets are damp from her sweat. The fan at the foot of the bed stirs the air around her. She walks out onto the balcony. The green and white lights of the city litter the hillside at her feet. She lights a cigarette. She checks her hand.

 

I am awake.

 

 

 

THE END

 

First Performance August 2015, Summerhall presented by Northern Stage as part of ‘Here Is The News From Over There’

Director: Lorne Campbell

Actors: Sara Sharaawi, Abdel Rahim Alwaj, Umar Ahmed