1. A conversation
2. A good feeling
3. At the time
4. Dreams and scale
5. An X
6. Bret
7. Gerrard
8. Knock on the floor
9. Matchboxes
10. New mix
11. Newspapers
12. Purple
13. Sebastian
14. Steve
15. Wisdom of gardens
16. What would it be
17. Dropping wine glasses
18. Two memories
19. The Ninja Tunes
20. When she agreed
21. Tattoos
22. Back in Joburg again
23. Wind
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I had the most specific dream about Sebastian last night. I could see all of his hair, jet
black, like a drawing a girl did in high school by scraping black paint off wax. I
perceived him as being angry and stern and upon reflection he does give that
impression. Eyes that would penetrate and look deeper into himself than you. But
his force was directed at me. I had conjured him. In ways I had hoped that he was
talking about Bokowski or reciting, as he has done, the opening lines to "Fear and
Loathing".
And she said it so nicely. In such a pleasant voice, as if she were imagining saying that
very same thing in that early morning with those few people there.
There is a marvellous mottled green moth on the inside of my windowsill. Just
below the massive expanse of glass that rises up above it. The glass that cuts light
and sends dust twirling in a lazy rectangle across my room and onto the green
sheeted bed. The moth watched me all of last night, it saw Sebastian too. Perhaps he
was in my room? Perhaps when he came through the glass like the light refracted,
the moth came in on his shoulder. A mottled green moth, like army camouflage, like
a mossy rock, would suit Sebastian so well.
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