While Mom watched

I dreamed that Sarah-Katherine and I were living in New York City, and my mom was coming to visit. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…

Mom was gonna be there soon, so I was hurrying to hide my zines, my porn, my condoms, and my life from her. She's judgmental, and the less she knows about me, the less she can shiv me with what she knows.

Hiding everything is wimpy, yeah, but it's Doug, and also it was a dream. In real life, I wouldn't hide everything, I simply wouldn't let her in the door.

Sarah-Katherine is not wimpy like me, so in the dream she had no interest in hiding anything, no intention of not being absolutely who she is. That's admirable, but easier when she's not your mother.

It was a good dream, though, because Mom was speechless throughout. Not speechless as in shocked, but speechless meaning, she never said a word. Not like real life at all.

She simply settled herself onto a ratty couch and read her Bible, while Sarah-K played music in her room, loudly, and then did dishes in the nude. Mom didn't even notice, just continued reading her Bible. Eventually she got up from the couch and made herself comfortable on a chair at the foot of my bed, while Sarah-Katherine and I screwed for hours in front of her.

I woke up, and — Paging Dr Freud — wondered what the hell that was all about. I beat off, of course, and then floated away for another dream of Sarah-Katherine. Mom had seen enough, I guess. She wasn't in the second dream.

This time, Sarah-K and I were in San Francisco, riding on BART, on our way to my place, here in Berkeley. She thought she knew the way, and got off the train, took a way-too-fast escalator up. She was too far ahead of me, I couldn't tap her shoulder, she didn't hear when I shouted her name, and she took another escalator, down to a Muni platform.

That's wrong, though. Muni doesn't go to Berkeley. I was still on the first escalator, trying to catch up with her, but the train doors closed and then she'd ridden away. She was lost. I was panicked.

Then the cat knocked something over, waking me up.

Well, you don't need Freud to decode *that dream. It's about Sarah-Katherine slipping away from me, doing her own thing without me — which I already know absolutely is how it'll end between us. I don't care, though. We can have some good times before she catches whatever train takes her away.

And anyway, back in reality, Sarah-Katherine is a grown woman. She wouldn't get lost on the subways, and if she did take the wrong train she could easily find her way back. If she wants to find her way back.

From Pathetic Life #16
Thursday, September 14, 1995

This is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago, called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting things, so parental guidance is advised.

Pathetic Life
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