That panicked moment when you realize you haven’t attended class all year, you’re not wearing any pants, and the teacher just painted you red? Wrong. The problem here can only be adequately described by another dream, and you only get to have one dream at a time. Sucks to be you.
First, drop some acid. First, be a schizophrenic. But, first, don’t sleep for 48 hours. And, first, have a dream like many of mine: indescribable, walking the intersection of mad and dull, unrestrained while being deeply constrained.
Then make a movie. You may get something like The Forbidden Room (2015), a feast for the slightly crazed eye, as the film shifts palettes and then melts; a maddening puzzle for the lover of plot and action; a beckoning finger for those who adore the mythic figure, the mythos, and the palm of the god who holds them in their hands.
But it’s more fun with a friend, especially when they try to walk away in frustration and you have to drag them back bodily to finish the epic marathon. Because this can be a mountain, if your temperament so dictates, worthy of cramps, ropes, frenzied breathing, and the random ruined friendship.
Enjoy it. Or not.
