Dream Nineteen, Part One, and Interpretation.

Dream Nineteen:

“Ugh, where do I start?” Kanye West.

I.                    The dream began, as far as I’m aware, at a College Debate Tournament. The architecture’s textures were highly defined under a vivid purple sky.

This time, I was Going In with guns blazing. It’s not impossible that the sky was in fact Marigold at some point, but then somehow I suspect that moreso of the buildings.

Interpretation:

Kresten never APPRECIATED what I had to offer. I then would have died for my friends, my only regret being that Mother and Maria (and even Father) would have cried. It would have then been a thankless task, for I would have been somber and not glad.

Perhaps the thought of martyrdom had been the source of my estrangement in my adolescence.

At each tournament, I felt the presence of my friends, who never once showed up. As a Debate Judge, I would have imagined Kresten and I spitting fire in the College Circuit, staging daemonstrations for the high schoolers, etc. I even thought that I could invite Andrew, Kresten, and Tony to judge. I figured they would be delighted, for their intellectual enthusiasm would find the same awe and admiration at these young minds as did mine, free from a blemish of envy, for such thoughts never crossed my own mind.

By this I do not mean that I boasted of my own humility and then extra-

Polated onto my ‘dear’ friends. I mean rather that envy did not even cross my mind as a conception. It was alien to me.

I was going to set the people in the whole League straight. I had no fear remaining. I was independent to a fault, though unapologetic for that very fault. I was to be a Martyr to my own cause. As I ascended the staircase indoors I thought of my ascent to the top of the League. I planned to go to my last round totally unencumbered. I would spend the first few rounds ‘wowing’ each member of the audience. Then in the last round there’d be armageddon. ‘I don’t care what some NIGGER says…’ I was pleased.

I would return home from my broad adventures eager to convey what I had learned to my dear friends. Yet despite the wondrous effect they’d had upon my psyche, they grew skeptical of my advice and unreceptive. I was puzzled. This was OUR group,

After all, and had we not all ways pooled our resources?

Kresten spared no [moments for] hesitation after he got his first consistent job.

The condescension that had been welling up without warrant

Then began to spill out in a torrent.

And I wished that he would chill out,

For the storm was so abhorrent.

Didn’t want then to call him a sell-out

To the norm. But now…

He tried to keep me in my debt.

So easily he would forget.

How  he refused all that I had to offer. And abused me.

With a scoff or taking

What I could not spare.

Faking it like he would care.

Forsaking it beyond repair.

Absconding with a jealous glare.

The Hell of his treachery everywhere.

The lechery that he would dare

to lecture me with such an air

As though we tried so wretchedly

To just repair the World.

How wretched he must be

When all his reckless treachery

Does come unfurled.

Dm.A/A.

I recall the proto-Fascist farming bastard talking to Ugo. Ugo, dying of cancer, can let the whole world starve just so long as his select few survive. What arrogance to think that your select few, just by being YOURS, are so important! What childish clinging to your chance surroundings! And then I remember K.

How he APPLAUDED Maddie Leyland for the Three Conventions: Work, School, and Romantic Relationship.

Status in short. I wonder just how many college kids are just like Ugo: concerned only with their half-baked and childish opinions. Some never even bother to ask themselves who THEY truly are, much less who OTHERS are, or how to reconcile the World of Others with the Self, and finally with Its own self.

And I think of men I called ‘my friends’.

How they refused to be ‘mine’,

but just took all that was mine.

How they forsook all the divine.

How they mistook it for my own and they looked at me like I was all alone…

And how they pursued only their own ends.

What lonely sad excuses for ‘my friends’.

What ego they displaced on me. Where’d we go

Wrong to be [acting] so damned dis-

Gracefully?

I would have died for them. But they could not even bear to watch me walk off with some girl, for once happy. For ONCE!

Kresten should have KNOWN that Ally never made me happy.

I had made that clear to him.

But he could not see past his own damned ENVY. What a bitch. And neither was he there for me when I most needed SOME one. ANY one.

In fact, he’d threatened to call the Police.

What a bitch. And to think I pardoned his soft soul.

Before he got these lofty visions of himself.

Hardened and ‘in control’.

He even thought that Bono was a douche!

How many years must one live

To deduce that some men simply Like to Give?

My friends were every thing to me.

OUR vision. OUR project. OUR cause. One for all, all for one.

But I could never get a job again.

Not when our Future waited.

Had I not delivered? So it was I never lost my self to peer pressure. I Knew that solidarity and individuality were mutual.

Not only COULD they co-exist; they HAD to. They were all inter-

Dependent. Just so long as the CAUSE was greater than the SELF. And yes:

All the parts of my philosophy that LOOKED defiant to the point of egoism: I had learned them all from Kresten. If a man refuses all the wisdom that I have to offer in exchange, can I be called ‘dependent’?

No. He is but ignorant. And ignorance is our greatest evil. Men like Kresten and Andrew hear a lot of talk and often talk it. But I’ve NEVER seen them walk my walk. Not once. I came home never to a gathering of musketeers,

Of Merry Men, of Knights or Honorable Thieves.

I Knew no loyalty. Only whatever royalty conceives.

I did not even know that they were mutinous,

plotting so jealously against me.

Oh how zealously I trusted

Those who lusted

After all I had.

I thought their crowns were star-encrusted.

Yep.

I was that mad.

Dm.A/A.

Ugo’s select few,

if they are any bit as selfish as HE is,

will turn on him before the end.

His only defense:

That in the same damned self-defense

He’ll never lose a friend.

For Ugo is the Ego

Who endures because it has no love.

But they’ll all see me go up the stairs as I just rise above.

Dm.A.A.

How marvelous. I did not even notice: we have made it back to the same stair-case. Ascendancy.

Overcoming.

Dm.A.A.