MY GATE
Dreamed 1996/5/27 by Chris Wayan
Big screen, fast connection? Full four-page dream comic.
I'm in Fremont, California, a Silicon Valley suburb. It's summer. Dusk. Fat moon rising, red-eyed from smog.
I was at a party here earlier--when I was awake. A friend's apartment. But now... I'm dreaming.
In my dream, I LIVE here.
I toss in bed. Just can't sleep--worried about my gate. It's just tied shut, with a leather cord anyone could slash, and slide in...
Get up! Get up! Gotta fix it NOW. It's been like that for years, but... it's time, that's all. It's time. And I know somehow... I have to fix it alone, no help, not even from tools. Just me, unaided.
But I do have one helpful option.
I can pick WHICH me.
So I step naked into moonlight.
And as the full moon strikes, I shift into my other self....
Were-Girl!
Suddenly I'm female, twentyish, medium height, pale blonde hair straight to my waist (no more frizz! I hate Were-Boy's brittle hair, he can't grow it very long).
I'm also fatter than skinny bony old Were-Boy--more of an athletic type. I love running!
I love being me.
I sneak out my side door, into the dark. Naked, but only a lone black cat can see.
On the side of our apartment building, there's a narrow path to the back where the wooden gate is that I need to fix.
At first I worry my neighbors will catch me--but feeling the warm summer night on my skin, I start to enjoy the adventure--even the danger that I'll get caught...
It's FUN being Were-Girl on the prowl!
Instead of worrying that others will see me naked, I'll watch THEM!
When you feel haunted... haunt!
I know, I know... you'd do the job you came for first, THEN dance--as a reward.
But I'm no lab rat! I'm Were-Girl! I play NOW!
Because fun makes you strong--not pain.
Yuck. What a taste! This stuff bites back! But it has to be done--I GOTTA fix this gate. Life and death! If I can't lock that gate when I want, how can I choose who to let into my life? How can I even know who I love, if I let them ALL in--because of a dried-up knot from years ago?
See...where I grew up, I was a hated minority kid. I was hit and spat on till I shut my gate. It's still shut. I just say no... to drugs, violence, gettin' loud, sex, love, jobs, competition, friends, attention, trust, joy. Gagged by hiding. I survived, since I didn't (like so many) let idealism tie me OPEN to every creep out there... but survival's pale as moonlight next to full-blooded life. I want life. Life in the sun.
Gnaw gnaw gnaw... this could take a while. Oh, I know!
Emily Dickinson wrote a poem I love, on the soul-power of a gate that opens AND shuts. Here--read it while I gnaw through this damn knot--gnaw and gnaw and gnaw and gnaw...
The Soul selects her own Society - Then - shuts the Door - To her divine Majority - Present no more -
Unmoved - she notes the Chariots - pausing -
I've known her - from an ample nation |
(We now return you to our regular dream programming--you're watching DBC, Channel 1!)
...so I gnaw and gnaw and gnaw and gnaw and gnaw and gnaw and SNAP!
So sudden I fell over backward, but hell, it's worth a scrape or two! I DID it! Now I can choose who to let in!
Gallop round the yard like a feral mare, joyful, leaping in glee... I feel strangely free, and strong. Why the hell'd I put this off so long?
Install a simple, functional bolt... and it's done. Yes and no, come and go... they're mine again.
I stride back into my living room, naked and scratched, with straw in my hair and leather-gnawing drool on my chin... and grinning.
I stand on my head in the moonlight, chanting "Come back, Were-Boy." And change. Suddenly I'm male, tall and craggy and skinny, powerful, reserved and shy...
I LOVE being Were-Girl, so why turn back, you ask?
See--well--my girlfriend's coming over, and she LIKES boys. She's weird that way. Helps me to learn to like this body.
Why not? I learned to like broccoli. And broccoli's a lot like masculinity. How, you ask? C'mon!
Like masculinity, it's best when not... overdone.
NOTES IN THE MORNING
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