the shit storm

a note to the reader: this is a vivid dream i had last night that, in the way of dreams, addresses things i don't normally deal with using language you won't otherwise find here on my blog – mainly the image of shit and the use of the word 'shit.' it's what i dreamt, it's the word that occurred to me in the dream, and so i present it here to you as part of one of the most symbolic, meaningful, and in its own way, comforting dreams i've had in years.

i was in a restroom stall having just used the bathroom. as i flushed the toilet, the water began rising instead of falling, pushing up a dense and massive pile of shit. having never clogged a toilet in my life, i was horrified and embarrassed, but that gave way to alarm as the water began rising faster and faster and quickly began overflowing in this swirling vortex.

just as the water and shit began spilling out onto the floor, i realized the whole bathroom was shaking and that's when it occurred to me that i was in the middle of an earthquake. drenched i fled the bathroom running through the building looking for the way out, puzzled and even alarmed by the people in the halls cowering passively in doorways waiting for the earthquake to end. why aren't you doing something?! i yelled at them inside my head. we should all be going outside into the open where it's safe! but they were all motionless and in shock as i frantically passed them.

in my rush to safety, the earthquake ended. wet and even though i couldn't see it, i knew i was covered from my waist down, i returned to the bathroom to clean off. i was back in the cramped stall as the excrement speckled water quickly drained away and it was about then that a man joined me. i remember his hair being mid-length and unstylish, his face unattractive, and his manner vaguely annoying, but i also felt a deep kinship and feeling of connection to him. i knew he was a true friend despite what he appeared on the surface and he was there to keep me company as i sat naked on the seat of the toilet pumping handfuls of soap from the dispenser and covering the lower half of my body with handful after handful of soft, white liquid-soap. then i slowly washed the soap away, one body part at a time, cleaning any trace of the grime from my body.

when i came out of the stall, my friend was gone, and in his place, lying down on the floor was the first real love of my life. one of my first friends. my first soul mate. and despite only have been met with rejection or disinterest throughout high school and college, he was also the first truly painful and un-requited loved of my life. and though now i love him with the simple constancy i love my brothers, for several years i held his memory as the one i loved but was frustratingly 'never good enough to have.'

in this dream, he was lying on the ground, his back toward me, but somehow not closed off from me. quite the opposite. he was just there. vulnerable. spent, but present. quiet and calm.

i knelt down behind him, looking at his back, feeling his openness to me, and as i cautiously reached my hand out toward him, resting it gently on his back, finally able to touch him, the dream ended.