dreams: February 2, 1999
I'm getting rid of all my old clothes that don't fit anymore. I'm sitting in the small upstairs bedroom (my old one) at John's house, looking through boxes of things I wore when I was a young girl. It feels satisfying to finally be getting these off my hands; I think about whether or not we will have a yard sale. I pull out a pretty dress. I like it a lot, but it's now way too small for me. It's white with floral, embroidered edges. Then I pull out a pair of pink, satin ballet slippers. They are very old and familiar. I imagine how my feet were once so small that they fit into them.
sorting through past parts of my identityThere is an old handbag (deep pink/rose color) that has distinct arc handles made of plastic triangles. I look inside it. There is a pocket that has a little round labyrinth in it. There are old flaky leaves in the labyrinth's spaces, as if it hasn't been used in a really long time. I like the bag, but it doesn't fit over my shoulder. I try putting it on my arm, but it doesn't go very far up since the handles don't have much room. I ask Phoebe if she wants it. She looks at it but doesn't tell me yes or no.
Then I'm outside. Phoebe is down the street (but in a way, I feel like I am Phoebe and she is me). I want to go make contact with her, yet I feel like it would be impossible. We have some very awkward energy between us. It hurts. Total separation. It feels like my own cold wall. I can't get through it.
- FIN -
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