once pristine . texts . dreams

i am high above a dangerous room, looking down, and with me is an older man, the older man, i guess, that recurs in different form, this one is accomplished, but somehow dubious morally, as opposed to morally upstanding but unaccomplished, i guess these are the two choices. looking down from the high rafter, as though the lighting technician in a theater, watching participants below in the livingroom, i am hiding, with the rich old man, for some reason were are disenfranchised from those below, although it is his house, i am hanging from the beam, i am disrobed for some reason, i have some covering, a loose blanket or robe, but my clothes have been taken away, i have time to look around, and i can see a very nice home, this is one of his alternate residences, it is furnished nicely, but every item i examine at length i realize i have seen before in countless other similarly decorated homes, and each coffee table – lamp combination is depressing in the thoughtlessness of its provenance, each granite surface is uglified in its contemporary disposition, although the original pattern of its grain must have been exquisite, and the people below, the vase with colored marbles and fake flowers is hideous, and i realize that this man has nothing to do with this house, it’s not where he lives, and these others are somehow his people, but he is also hiding from them . so is the man my future? i am ashamed now and naked to be hanging around literally with my future self . when these people below catch us they will persecute us, because we are not of them . i am speaking to the old man about a film i recently saw which affected me, and it is of his generation, it is a world war ii film, it is like stalag 17, and then i realize that he was in the film, and i am pleased to have unwittingly earnestly mentioned his own work, and he is pleased, but we don’t have much time, we are being pursued by the consumers below, we were looking down on them (the setting was an adaptation of my image of the globe theater, in which the commoners stood on the floor level and the more noble looked down on them from above) we are running through the crowded streets, and i am disgusted with this man, but i am letting him protect me from the humiliation of my nudity, it is his garment i have draped over myself as i run, it is this vestige of my future that is protecting me from my exposure …