The momentary surreality of waking up ...

Shape-shifting:

Once, I woke up in a half-dream, having fallen asleep with both hands under my cranium,

and was convinced for a moment that I could volley my head upward like a beach ball.

I tried, and was half-disappointed, half-relieved.

Detaching:

Once, I woke up sideways in a reclining chair, the edge digging into my hip.

My Father was shouting, “Josh! It's almost 6! You'll be late for aikido!”

And so I hopped up, imagining that I'd sprint to my room.

My right leg hit the ground running; my left leg hit the ground like a dolphin flipper,

having fallen deeply asleep.

My body hit the ground heavily,

so I crawled to my room.

I got dressed on my back, then leaned against a sofa to battle the rising pins and needles.

After about 5 minutes, I limped to the car, feeling quite grateful for impermanence.

Once, I woke up next to my girlfriend

(who was sleeping to my right),

with my right hand draped across my body

(holding someone's—not my girlfriend's—hand

against my chest).

I quickly discovered that I was holding my own left hand

(which had lost circulation and gone numb).

This would be significantly easier to explain to her than either

(A) “Somehow, your hand came off during the night, and it was due to my pulling,” or

(B) “I think we both fell asleep before it happened—but Jess, I'd like you to meet the newest member of our bed...”

Transcending:

Several times, I've woken up with both arms above the covers,

my blanket tucked under my armpits and wrapped across my chest,

and momentarily concluded that I had fallen asleep in a strapless dress.

My next-next thought is always, “No, that's just the blanket,”

but my second thought is usually,

“My arms are cold; I should have worn something to cover my shoulders.”

Things I've learned from hitting my face ...

{*PS: don't try to walk through glass doors. -- January 2013}

Don't wear sunglasses

into a movie theater

—cost: headbutting a black felted hallway corner

Black tables look like shadows

when the lights are out

—cost: purple eye socket; a girlfriend's laughter

Don't swim underwater with your eyes closed

while smiling

—cost: chipped tooth

Keep a safe distance when walking behind children

who brag, “My father breaks bricks with his head”

—cost: sore jaw (compliments of a backfist)

Just because someone loves you

doesn't mean they have fine motor control

—cost: a forehead bruise (and, “No, please don't try to hug me again”)

Things that film-makers do, thinking no one will notice? ...

 

THE 'IGNORE EMOTIONAL REALITIES' TRESPASS:

{“ACTORS JUST NEED TO SAY WORDS AND HAVE THE RIGHT FACE, OKAY?”}

E.G. – Force two people to kiss with their mouths while their bodies are

actively pulling away from one another in mutual repulsion—

and then instructing the man to honk the woman's breast like a clown nose.

(see The Fault in Our Stars)

THE 'IGNORE PRACTICAL REALITIES' TRESPASS:

{“I KNOW I SET UP THIS ONE TRUTH, BUT IT'S CONVENIENT FOR MY STORY ARC IF I CHANGE THAT NOW.”}

E.G. – Spend hours emphasizing how inhospitably, instantly deadly cold it is outside

of a perpetual motion train, then crash the train when the weather outside lets up a smidgen,

then have the survivors trudge a few yards into the lifelessly pristine snow,

and—on seeing a (presumably hungry) polar bear—instruct them to stand in awe,

as though witnessing a portent of good things to come in their immediate future.

(see Snowpiercer)

THE 'A GOOD LINE IS BETTER THAN A BELIEVABLE SCENE' TRESPASS:

{“LISTEN, I CAME UP WITH THIS REALLY MOVING DIALOG, AND IT WILL MAKE PEOPLE CRY AS LONG AS THEY'RE NOT THINKING”}

E.G. – Have a boy's brother invent a medical robot, who demonstrates

awareness of both physical and psychological maladies.

Then have the brother die in a horrible fire.

Later, when the boy grows sad and says, “It still hurts,”

The robot will scan him and say, “I see no signs of physical injury,”

and the boy will reply, “It's a different kind of hurt.”

The audience will understand that the robot has suddenly forgotten all its stored information

about the psychological aspects of health impacted by injury and trauma,

and now needs to download these basic medical concepts.

(see Big Hero 6)

THE 'MUSIC IS REALLY IMPORTANT, UNTIL THE END' TRESPASS:

{“DUDE, I'M GLAD WE HIRED A WELL-TRAINED COMPOSER WHO CREATED A SCORE TO ACCENTUATE AND INTENSIFY THE TONE OF THIS MOVIE. I'M ALSO GLAD THAT SMACK-MOMMA'-DIDDY WAS AVAILABLE TO RECORD A BITCHIN' RAP-ROCK BALLAD FOR THE END CREDITS”}

E.G. – Almost every award-nominee, big-budget, big-stars movie ever.

I have to work at being an optimist...

When I see a well-dressed man quickly leaving a restaurant,

and he bumps into a well-dressed young boy while turning a corner,

and says loudly to him, “Congratulations to you!”

and hurries toward the exit—and then I notice

that the man is carrying a wrapped present.

When a young woman rear-ends my 1980's hatchback, then buckles in her child,

exits her 2000's sedan and explains, “I don't have my insurance on me,

and this is my father's car. Mine's in the shop.”

Later, she calls me with an offer of $400, and a body-shop tells me it will be $1802,

so I pitch to her $1500, and she replies, “This has to come out of my paycheck.

But I know a guy who works at a shop—would you be willing to drive down there?”

And I remember, among her many expensive-looking tattoos,

Between angel-wing shoulders and scripted wrists,

a pair of brass knuckles.

When a serious relationship is going less than 100% perfectly

and I walk by another couple acting happier in public,

and then I get a smile from someone else attractive who,

in a moment without plans / words / laundry, seems so shiny,

and then I have to look back at that old face I'm with

and remember how deeply perfect she

must be to keep finding

goodness in me.

When I turn on the radio, and it's

the last chorus chorus of a song I like,

the last set before a commercial break,

and I hear those words,

“Are you having a problem with...?”

YES! Yes, probably, I am!

But I'm doing fine with just diet and exercise.

And also—I know you didn't write

the commercial; you're just reading it.

And I know there probably is someone out there

who really appreciates

having this thing, or knowing

it's only $27.99 this month,

and where to find it.

And thank you,

for the offer.

Things we talk about while driving...

(...eyes out the window...)

{An old lady sits in the passenger seat.

pulls down her mirror at a red light, 

reapplies her lip-stick}

"Old ladies put on their lipstick so thick! It's cute."
"That's because they keep kissing it off on everybody:
sons and daughters, little children, restaurant wine glasses...
She's not touching up her make-up; she's re-loading."

*  *  *

{On a street corner, 

a heavy-set man with a ponytail 

unloads his truck}

"I don't know how anyone who's obese can be homophobic
without feeling like a hypocrite."
"Why?"
"Because once you get above 350 lbs,
there's really no clear difference between a man and a woman."

*  *  *

{A dog arches its back to poop,

maintaining steady eye contact with its owner}

"That little dog is really staring hard at his owner.
'I'm watchin' you, and I'm poopin'; watchin', and poopin'."
"Makes sense. Because in the wild,
you have to keep an eye on whoever is around,
so you don't get attacked."
"Right? And anyone who'd kill you while you were pooping
is probably NOT the person you'd want taking your life.
Because they're clearly willing to eat you while you're pooping.
It's like, 'Come on, have some self-respect:
this is literally me at my most disgusting.'"
"Right? Just wait a second. ...
I'm watching you, and I'm pooping."

A metaphor, for starting...

There's so little pressure in a good idea; so little risk of failure in a dream.
So much pressure in following through; so little chance at doing anything perfectly.

But there's so little pressure out in space; we'd gas up and die if we stayed there long.
And there's so much pressure on this earth; we naturally push against it, growing up.