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Nostalgic for Fire
Sept 17, 2009

 

in my dreams it seems there are always individuals that represent basic needs. need to fuck. need to help. need to best.

the faces and circumstances change but the needs are still "met", usually without narrative conclusion or ultimate benefit.

this time, we were waiting in line on fillmore st, outside a restaurant that was handing out free food. ah, this makes sense, since we were doing just that yesterday, but on a different street.

most of the waiting people were young, but a couple people were older, possibly poor and in need of the free meal. I think there was a girl there I was trying to impress, or at least conscious of.

One man was in a wheel chair. I talked to him and comforted him somehow. Then another kid started talking to him, but not taking him too seriously. not chiding or ridiculing, but not feeling his pain. it turns out the man couldnt feel his pain either. He spoke slowly and nostalgically about cigarettes, so the kid lit a match inside the wheelchair-bound man's mouth, in order to simulate the lighting of a cigarette. The man was temporarily relieved, but the fire started to burn the roof of his mouth, spilling out and catching his mustache on fire. I was aghast, and I proclaimed that the man's mustache was burning. I rushed over to try to fan it out, but someone reassured me that it was ok. fire engulfed his head, then moved on to something else in the background and left him with large black burn spots on his cheeks and head. Now he was speaking even more slowly, with the face of someone who might be onto the fact that he just got disserviced by some schmuck. He wasn't all there from the beginning, but he didnt deserve that.