I just uncovered literature of an unfortunately hip dream I had on April 1st, 2008. I realize this is one of the most hipster dream you could probably have. All that's missing are some records, PBR and a fixed-gear bike. My mind might have collapsed under such irony.
"I had a dream last night about Allen GInsberg. I just finished doing a History essay, so I guess he's been on my mind lately. So I am at an outdoor market, it's late in the afternoon in Spring. There's a lot of people, and as I meander around, I find this one tent that looks like an Indian market stand. There's a man inside who I recognize, and identify him as Allen Ginsberg.
He doesn't look like the young, short haired Ginsberg, nor the older, balding, bearded, mountain-man Ginsberg with glasses. He looks more like actor David Cross, just as himself, but with a beard. I call over to him, we talk briefly about something and he whips out this weird bong from under a strange cloth with patterns, like burlap, only, with a silky texture? A large crowd gathers as he goes to light it. He sets his beard on fire.
We go inside a building, and end up in a reddish-colored salon-type drawing room. His beard is not on fire anymore. There are old photographs everywhere on the walls and bookshelves full of books. I sit down on the corner of a chair. It looks like an old black one my family owned (it was from Ikea. Go figure). A guy about my age, wearing a black & white checkered shirt, plops in the chair casually, as if he owned it. He introduces himself. His name was something like Himberg, or Ghilbert, Hilmborg, Hamgirb. Something odd, and similar to Ginsberg. Had the letters H and G for sure.
Anyway, turns out Allen Ginsberg was my teacher. I was in some kind of classroom, apparently. Then my younger cousin Lucy came into the room, and we started eating Cheez-It crackers. Too many, in fact. When we were leaving and walking home, we both mentioned that we felt really sick from the Cheez-Its."
Then I woke up and ate breakfast as if this had never happened.
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