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2005-05-22 - 12:22 p.m.

I had crazy dreams. I must share. Realize this is only a dream:

I dreamed that I was at Michael Jackson's house. It wasn't as grand as Neverland Ranch really is. I was there to investigate the child molestation situation, but he thought I was a friend and while I was there, I realized he was more into drugs than children. We were in a small galley kitchen, making drugs. He had a big metal sauce pan with white powder in it. It was full strength cocaine. He was about to cut it with some plain white powder to dilute it down to where it wouldn't kill people. We were trying to keep the other people in the house from knowing what we were doing.

At some point, my cell phone rang. I looked at the front of the phone to see who it was and it said the name of someone I know, but not very well, let's call him Ralph. (I'm leaving out the actual names so the people won't google their own names and read this. I'm leaving Michael Jackson's name in, because he's famous and other people have said worse things about him than this dream contained.) So I answered my phone and Ralph was talking in a high pitched Minnie Mouse kind of voice, (ironically enough... because Michael Jackson always talks like that) trying to disguise who he was. He was asking where he could find one of my cousins (who has been in trouble in the past with a little light drug related stuff.) I said I didn't know. I could tell he meant my cousin some harm, so I wasn't being helpful. He started trying to convince me to give him up, but I wouldn't. Then Ralph's mother, Hortense, got on the phone and reiterated what Ralph was saying, trying hard to convince me I should tell them where to find my cousin. I still acted like I had no idea how to help them. I thought my cousin must be involved in drugs and so was Ralph. They must have had a bad deal go down or something.

Back in the kitchen, cutting drugs with Michael.... we were busily getting the white powder all mixed in. He measured out two heaping teaspoons of plain powder to go in a batch of pure cocaine. It was on my hands and forearms. I almost licked it, but then I realized that would not be a good idea because I didn't want to be altered. Michael licked some off his hand and he was testing it to see if it was the right strength and quality. People came and went, but they were in the know, so it was not a bad thing. But then Michaels' dad came into the house and Michael got extremely nervous. He said we could not let his dad know we were mixing drugs. He must not find out. Michael's dad was the monster of the dream. So I shut a screen door between us and the rest of the house and locked it. I thought if he walked up, we could pretend we didn't know it was locked until we had a chance to hide the evidence. We were going to sell the drugs. People were hanging out in a little sitting room just off the kitchen, waiting for the drugs to be ready. Kids were playing with blocks on the floor.

Somewhere in the dreams I saw my dad and thought about the fact that I love my dad and I didn't want him to know what I was doing although I had a higher purpose for doing it. I saw Bink's old boyfriend and thought he was going to figure out what we were doing and blow the whole thing for me. There were little kids all around. Little ragamuffin kids. Michael was just letting the kids play and do whatever they wanted. He wasn't molesting any kids. I got the impression that he never molested any kids, but that he was into drugs, and that was his real sin, not child molestation.


OK - The odd thing is... I don't so much have an opinion about the Michael Jackson thing. I choose not to think about it and I hold back judgement. I'm not invested in the outcome and I don't have a solid opinion about it, other than the fact that it is grossly inappropriate for grown men to sleep in bed with young adolescent boys. I don't remember thinking about it lately and here it is in my dreams. Go figure.

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7 This comments thingy doesn't work now because I let my paid membership lapse.

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