Our college campus is studded with pyramids.

Mimes invade. Berets, whiteface, stripes, silence. More than one troupe. They set up on the lawns under the cypresses at the pyramids' feet, and do silent political theater that slides from antinuclear skits to gender politics to body issues involving nudity... to public sex. No one objects--they line up to see them. Well, more than see them. To join the fun. To fuck them. For a fee. Mimes are whores!

But a percentage goes to antiwar activists. Mimes whore for peace.

A fastidious feminist girl I know squats and licks a naked mime's cock. He grabs her hair and starts enthusiastically fucking her mouth. Another girl slides her whole hand up the squatting girl's cunt from behind. Looks more like a veterinarian examining a farm animal than sex... but it's revealing how easily that hand slides in! No need for lube--she's slippery with excitement. Amazing to see her let go and trust that much. The power of mimes. I had no idea.

The base of each pyramidal campus hall has a ledge with nooks where nude sunbathers look down on the orgy, drinking beer and cheering the fuckers on. Some in the nooks are in couples fucking.

I'm in line now, with an erection. I wear a bright-colored cloak, open in front. A thin blonde with small breasts and a big head, big eyes, also wearing a robe open in front, sees my erection and blushes and looks me in the eye. We wordlessly decide "yes"... but I stay in line! Can't BEAR to lose my place--I'm near the head now! A sure thing, versus my history of disasters and misreading women... I play it safe. And so I lose her.

Reach the head of the line, enter the cypress grove, and... the person in front of me is the last. My friend Beryl, in mime-face, bows, and the troupes pack up to go. So much for the sure thing!

I wander through the crowd, desperately seeking post-orgy sex. I find no takers; they're all exhausted. Or worse. One girl I know slightly, Diane, grumbles "I feel raspy after fucking all those men. So selfish, like men are--only concerned for their own pleasure." I think that's hypocritical since she was a mime charging those men for a service--a quick, uninvolved gang-bang. She asked for customers and got them--then claims all men are like that, all the time!

Not to mention the money was for peace. Charitable gang-bang?

Diane bristles with anger--literally. I can see it, like coarse gray-brown fur. There's a small valve growing from her shoulder--the pressure-release valve. Impulsively I reach out, press the button... and the rage erupts! Blasts overhead like a geyser of smoke. Diane's not chronically angry, so I expect it to vent off in minutes, at least enough to reveal calmer layers beneath.

But instead, the stress and rage just keep coming--on and on! That layer's way too thick and deep to vent easily. No quick fix!

For her or me.

NOTES IN THE MORNING

• Cypresses: "suppresses"! A recurring pun in my dreams.
• Whore for peace: Sexual role-playing softens emotional risk? I was raised radical so activism is a natural fit; for others it might be church or whatever.
• Girl who eyes me: naked personal attraction, not under guise of a cause. Real risk of rejection, so I stick to the safe thing--which fails!
• Fur, raspy: our cat Musette is sick, grumpy, slashy.
• Rage runs deep: Diane never struck me as this angry. Am I this mad? Or do I expect women in general to be this mad?
• ACTION: DO NOT date Diane. DO act on my attractions; playing it safe means you end up left out.

I go see the film Eréndira, written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

"Men are so selfish": Ulises meets Eréndira in a carnival tent, forced by Grandma into prostitution. Grandma tells Eréndira "Men only want to use you"--while Grannnie's pimping her! The grotesque situation and even her words are straight out of my dream.

The orgy/gangbang/prostitution shut down just as I reach head of line: this too was echoed in the film. Gramma sees Ulysses likes Eréndira, so she tells him "closed now, come back tomorrow"--to whet his appetite, up the price?

A third echo between dream and film; later that night, I'd dreamt my mother rode a boat that sailed on land. In the film, Grandma rides a palanquin, like a boat with human bearers.

Why my mom, not my grandma? Well, in our family, Mom's the one who slanders men.

Eréndira's evil grandmother (Irene Pappas) in her palanquin

Eréndira (Claudia Ohana) and her part-angel lover Ulises (Michael Lonsdale)

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