My house has changed. It's still a two-story house in San Francisco, but renovated, with lots of reddish hardwood floors and stairs. And now, I apparently live in the attic. I'm home alone, staring at skylight in the slanted ceiling, as I listen to an old tape, trying to decide if I want to keep it--or erase and reuse it. It's a compilation of songs from a local, alternative radio station. Side B is dull, till I reach a set on sex. The climax (ahem) of the set brings on a band called The Ecoteurs--a pun on eco-tours, mocking the idea that sending tourists across oceans, burning tons of jet fuel, on eco-tours to see a gorilla or lemur, really helps the environment.

I like their cynicism, but their song is dull dull dull! "The Penis Song" is just two women giggling and swapping lies about the big penises they've caught, like two fisherman swapping lies about bass. A one-note joke. That's the trouble with all these songs on sex. One-dimensional.

I think I'll erase my sex tape and start over!

While it erases, I get up and stretch, then wander down the stairs, half naked. No one's here to see.

And then, like flicking on a light, there IS someone here to see. But not human. A horse! Gigantic in my loft, with a gigantic erection. I'm hypnotized...

I duck under the stallion's belly and grab that giant penis and start sucking on it. I'm curious what horse come tastes like--I bet it's sweeter than human come, since horses are vegetarians and they don't eat much Cheez-Whiz or garlic...

Blorp! Wow, so much! A whole meal!

It's a pleasant enough flavor, but not the orgasmic thrill I'd hoped.

Suddenly I stop, and think "Wait... am I male or female? Oh, male. Am I gay, then? I don't think so... I forget. Wow, you'd think I'd be clear what my own sexual orientation is!"

So I try changing the dream-horse to a mare. And it works! I'm under her, with my face up between her thighs, licking her giant sweet-smelling cunt. Tasty, an unpretentious vintage with a rather grassy bouquet... Nope, still not thrilling. Maybe I'm not straight either? Or do I just not like oral sex?

Then it occurs to me "Maybe I should imagine licking a HUMAN girl."

Oh. Right.

I knew that.

I knew something was odd. I'm not a horse, right. I'm human, this time around!

I can remember that.

NOTES IN THE MORNING

Let's ignore the dream's not-exactly-subtle hints that I'm not a human soul but a reincarnated horse, trying on your species for the first time--and not getting it quiiiite right. No big secret there! I've always dreamed I was a horse. In fact, my first memory is of being a horse and waking up human...

Instead, I wonder if the dream was warning me about instant karma--the consequences of my actions now. As a kid, I got an overdose of that branch of feminism that declares penises automatically oppressive, obnoxious--any o-word except orgasmic! I'm sick of that mental tape playing over and over, and lately I've been fighting to erase it. The dream says I can do it--but asks, "What then?"

Well, the dream warns I may get uninhibited but also pretty random... as blank as the erased tape. Spacy! Yes, I did finally notice I wasn't into guys, but I was slower to notice what SPECIES I was!

So... I may have to go through some VERY strange trials and errors. Big errors. Big, splorpy errors.

Oh, I'm sure it's just me. It's just a private dream. Not a dream-editorial on the state of world sexuality--or anything else we've been rethinking. All you global villagers out there, YOU know who and what you are. YOU'RE not confused, not a bit.

And that's what scares me. Most folks really believe that.

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