My grandmother burns a lot of things in the kitchen while she competes with the neighbors. I watch her curlers bounce in her auburn hair as she points her gun out the window and aims into the neighbors moving around their own kitchen. She takes aim and shoots. She smiles when she realizes that she hit her mark and the neighbors are now all dead. After she sets her gun down, she sits down in her wooden chair at the table, lights a cigarette, and takes a seemingly smooth drag from it. My six-year-old boy self stares at her posture, her hair and pale eyes and wonder who this woman is, is she even my grandmother or my grandmother possessed? Because of my fears, I slowly feel the warmth of my urine as it streams down my leg.
Home isn’t a place, it is a feeling
It’s the blanket of stars that cover me each night
The sky is a canopy of kisses
Home is the rush of the ocean waves
As they crash into the solid rocks of the shore
I notice while walking by
I feel the ocean mist spray my face
I taste salt water on my lips
Home is a steady ship in a river of doubts
Home embraces me tightly and allows me to cry
All the pain I carry inside
Home soothes me
It melts the ice cave I created for myself
In order to have the illusion of my own protection and safety
Home doesn’t judge me
It waits like flowers ready to bloom
After heavy doses of snow have melted
In order for the buds to finally reach their true potential
My home is the universe and I am only a tiny piece of it
Home is the beating of my heart
As it races with fear while I run away
From all of my troubles into darkness, seemingly alone.
I test my surroundings to find wool in my hands,
This reminds me of safety and security,
I emerge from the enclosed quarters of a closet,
To smell spices and sweets,
Home is a warm and full belly,
Contentedly, I could lose myself in a favorite book
Or the mind of an intellectual,
When I am tired of the indoors,
I explore my world and step into rain puddles.
I lose myself in my childish splashes
I fling my hair into my face
I am singing my favorite song but also laughing freely
I stop to see an animal rustle in the bushes behind me
Friend or foe, I think to myself.
It doesn’t matter
I see a rainbow highlighting the sky above me
I am home; I smile
I was Einstein, and I was walking through the forest in order to collect as many feathers as possible. It didn’t matter from what bird they came from, as long as I gathered them. I decided to attach these feathers to a machine I created. Basically, the machine was a suit that fit over my clothes and strapped onto my arms and legs. I could control it with simple body movements. The feathers were to be attached to the machine, and become a giant bird. My goal was to learn how to fly with it. The word got out, and many people came because they wanted to take my machine away from me. I had become very good at flying, and I ran to gain momentum before I emerged into the sky. The people were chasing me, but I was free when I was in the sky. If I became tired and wanted to land, I could only stay on the ground for a few moments before the people flocked to me; I tried to watch them below me shifting to areas where they thought I would go so that I could find a safe place to land. When they came, I’d take off into the sky again as quickly as possible. Nothing could harm me as long as I was flying. There was only one time when I was almost caught, but I took off before my tail feathers could be grabbed.
I was dropped into a secret location in China near the Korean boarders for my mission which was to spy on a secret gathering. There was a large cargo plane and many government officials were standing around in a discussion regarding the secret they were trying to hide. I parted the bushes away and listened closer. This secret was huge, and I directed my vision at the most important participants in the discussion: One American, one Japanese, and one Afghanistan man, all who were military officials. They were talking about the local communities and how the aliens had been breeding with them not only causing human tragedies, and deformities, but social clashes and fears. The officials wondered how they were going to keep the secret from getting out. These aliens were the ones who were causing the wars because they didn’t understand the human way of life but they wanted to establish life here. The officials didn’t know how they could resolve the issue.
I was at a school I had never been to before and was walking around the campus asking for a “good” counselor. A woman I didn’t know approached me and introduced me to Professor Hong. Dr. Hong was slightly taller than me, and had a brunette bob cut perfectly straight to her ears and wrapped around her head. During our introduction, I was informed that Professor Hong was a therapist as well. She grabbed me and instantly flung me around in order to stand behind me. She started examining my back side before approaching my ear to whisper, “Record yourself.” She then said that there were two questions I needed to answer, “Who are you, and what do you want?” People of Asian origin have always sent me similar messages or questions in my dreams.
I was in a bright red and orange house with my friend, who has always lived his life as a female, especially in his romantic relationships with men; physically however, he has always been a male. He wears beautiful clothing that he customized for himself, and often wears long flowing skirts to match his long, jet black hair. There was a bed in the room and I was very tired. I told him that I was going to lay down and he could cuddle with me if he wanted to. We’ve had many conversations about his sex life and the years he spent in prostitution, cuddling females is something he never was interested in nor did he do. So, in my dream, he laid beside me even though my back was to him. He started to talk about everything and I stayed there listening but also looking around the room. There were chains on the walls. He was excited with what he was talking about stood up to go make a cup of coffee. When he did so, I noticed that one of the chains in the room was attached to a collar around his neck. The atmosphere changed when he stood, and he was taller and even thinner than he normally was. It became darker, but in the darkness came a sound. The chains were streaming live, classical music through them; my friend stopped prattling. The chains were thick and heavy-looking. The weight or being hit with them would surely be painful. They were the kind of chains with rings large enough for me to stick my hand into them and wear as bracelets if they weren’t so heavy. The chains changed from their metal to Christmas lights as I was examining them. Again, I looked around at my quickly shifting atmosphere to see spiky stairs. They looked like pointy teeth and were shaped closer to mountain ridges whose peaks were at various heights. Then the dungeon room again went dark and the music stopped.
There it was in front of me, my head sitting there. I was looking at my face and examining the features but I was not recognizing it. I started to rub the skin of my cheek bones in a loving way, hoping it would wake up. It didn’t do anything. No eye fluttering, no breathing or sign of life what-so-ever. I rubbed for a while but eventually became tired of rubbing my face. I lifted my voice to demand, “Wake up.” Still though, there was no movement, so I slapped my head and watched my hair move from the action. Again, nothing. I thought about it, and picked up my lifeless head to put onto my body anyway.