in my dream there was a penisless boy who had no problems with killing, it was my job to instill in him a sense of order, feeling, or compassion. even his own death, self-inflicted or otherwise, brought to him only chuckles. There might have been more then one of him, but the others were only followers, he was the one leader, or at least at that moment he had the attention of the others. I couldn't teach him to respect the life of the living, his carelessness was borne from inexperience, but it was maudlinly odd for a child having 9 to 11 years to be filled with such malevolence. I recognized in him that he might have actually cared, and greatly so, but that he was just incapable of expressing it. All I could do, in the short time I shared with im, was to ridicule him and try to persuade his fellows that the one was no fun. There was a window and a beach, and plenty of milk and orange juice for all of us.
It must be great to join the army and have all that order and hierarchy everywhere to make sense of life, from cadet to corporal to corpse. It's fun to find out how easy it is to reminisce to the point that one's sentimentality becomes gold dust of longing for things past, only the dust is real, it's scatters behind one's eyes. It's especially real for those soldiers out there, who've had orders drilled at them, and then, when it's over, and they're civilians, they miss the days of rank, salutes and march. I am sure that there is a strong relationship between memory and rules, the more rules you live under the more memories you have to long for. Those raised in the wild, don't remember yesterday. I read somewhere about some scientist shooting a gun next to the head of a child raised alone, with no human contact, and the child did not even flinch - did not even care about the loud sound of the weapon. Talk about a good soldier. I wonder what symbol best represents the future? If the past is a clock, or old man time, what is the future? I am thinking water, black water, swimming at night.
