The Hare said something to me. Silhouetted in a doorway he said:
“Do you remember the dream…?”
I said “I do.” You say “I do” at weddings for example, and weddings are the place for dreams. “I do” dream.
He said, “Do you remember the dream, when you were in the aeroplane…you were not in an aeroplane for long, of course. The door opened, and you crawled upon the clouds like a baby. Other people dream of flying! That is why I love you. It wasn’t a scary dream.”
“‘Course that was before the…er…terror”
And that was a word said nervously; I’m not sure I should transcribe it.
“This has nothing to do with that!” snapped The Hare.
“No sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“You shouldn’t. You crawled out of that aircraft like a baby. You shouldn’t use naughty words like that. You don’t know how to. Even if there was an aeroplane, it is quite clear that your duty is that of a child, and you will one day be a father to a sky-crawler of your own. This is not a dream for your text books. Put those away before somebody steps on them. ”
I went to sleep.
“I sometimes seek dreams devoid of Freud’s presence – like when I was naive, and the little falling girl. To fetch a pail of water. Days that do not need textbooks to live through. Different words to describe things, an ear, and a computer. If a Richard, then also an Elizabeth.
And each of these things can describe other organs that we have, can be applied to those bodies found anywhere, including churches. Not immoral but amoral. I don’t “want grow up to be/be a debaser.” I thought I did, but I shouldn’t have to. Those guys, the deep-thinkers, they build great towers to knock them down. It is perhaps true that sex terrorised my world. To discuss not Richard, but Richard’s perfectly formed cochlea, the circular window through which he sees Elizabeth, who is good…because she is good at maths, and because Richard is good at television quizzes, and they share a dislike of mint imperials and conservative politics and Edwina, who is not good because she smells and because of an inexplicable curse which is nobody’s fault, but has nothing to do with “terror”.
Bat pinnae come in different shapes and sizes.
“The Coming of The Age”, as they say, came to me in a typically poetic and literal way. I got stuck in a rocket designed for children, which I was evidently too big to ride in. My father, who happened to be wearing a Superman T-Shirt at the time, had to wrench me out of the tiny spacecraft. A trip to the moon just got more complicated. I was confused and would remain so for some time.
…a deadline, a job promotion, an influx of money, a chocolate penis. This is what everybody says – they say things like that, and you laugh. This is your – a snooker cue – to laugh, like rising steam, like the shorthand for “Richard”. Richard laughs also, but does not get the joke.
I WANT NAIVITY!