01/jun. it was summertime nearing and had to make plans for the summer. someone told me about a great deal, a plane ticket to san francisco for 20 dollars. (xing hovering? saying it was a good deal) and i got really excited. i think i needed someone else to go with me, so i called tugce, who had really wanted to go because she had never been there, and wanted to see all those attractions there. i wanted to go to LA cause i had already "lived in SF for some time", and asked how long/the cost of a bus from SF to LA. it must have been a ridiculous question. it took five days by bus, and then 1000 dollars. so i said, alright. while there these 2 sisters (long hair, rational and practical) named sightseeing spots that tugce could see that i'd never heard of, but that in their language was really very practical. i never saw tugce so excited about something (i have, in her excited way, but didn't know she was so adventurous about traveling). next scene i remember is eating at large round tables in a restaurant. like waiting for our flight. sitting next to a girl i know, probably tugce. we had been told at some point when our flight was and where to wait, but i was very irresponsible about it and just waved it out of my mind because it was confusing. white cloth napkins, and white table cloth. basket of bread? an old but haughty (not gaunt, but robust) waiter with a white beard and greyish hair (a la sean connery) in his black and white serving uniform served a rice porridge with peanuts. in my mouth it tasted hot, the peanuts were crunchy, but more msg than usual, like when mom puts in her adoboed meat. they were laying more wonderful things on the table, like these golden and flaky empanadas (generous sizes) in a multi-tiered basket with that rustic red and white checkered limp napkin draping out of it. shiny black wicker. i whispered to the girl next to me when we could have some of that. i asked the waiter, and he replied in a most condescending manner, that we would first finish the porridge and then he would repartir the rest of the food to the individual bowls. he disgruntled me so i went downstairs (small set of stairs leading down, a cream and spotted tiled floor like in the airport) to ask about my flight. there was some sort of office, with a clear window wall and some lazy red letters printed on it from the 80s in an arc, peeling and awkwardly stick straight. there was a printed page posted on a pole with departure times. a man sort of imposed himself between me and the pole and told me in an exasperated, dismissive way that my flight had been set for 1000, and that it was too late. it was the kind of voice that has enough authority to make you not want to double check yourself out of disrespect, but which you don't trust quite enough. i really wanted to peek over at the list. but anyway, i said something equally indisputable, i said, well i can still make it if i can hurry, in a way that left no room for questions, and i quickly hurried away lest he objected. he called after me, no bathroom breaks in the two? ten? (can't recall) hour ride. i realized i had to pee and so went again, down a small set of stairs to the women's bathroom. but long line, backing up the stairs. in a hurry, i actually started peeing while walking down the stairs so i would be done by the time i got down there. no toilet paper, but ahh, oh well. my pants pulled up again and i hurry back. but where do i wait? i think i had to recourse to the guy and he told me the bookshelf by the table. i went to the table, was hmphed that i had to miss that they were already repartiendo the good stuff. i stood by the bookshelf, waiting but oblivious. finally the guy pointed out the bug. the bug! it was my mode of transportation, the size of a flea. but he was actually a bug-man, and, more accurately, something like a centaur, but bright smurf-blue, with heavy and exotic eyebrows and a muscular frame. i don't think he had a tail. somehow i shrank, and i was astride him, and we were taking off. at some point he put me to sleep (by injection? by will?) because there were some things i couldn't see. eventually i opened my eyes and it was dark, but we were flying over these beautiful hills and hills and hills, everywhere i could see, of luminescent purple and blue and these kinds of colored dots. they were all of his kind traveling. but it felt more like a homeland rather than a traveling pack. we must have been passing by. it was really a wonderful ride. when we landed, we landed in some alien planet. we were in a boat, or a house-ish boat (small though). white walls, white floor, white everything. a window balcony type thing except it was the end of the boat and overlooked the sea. could have been early morning, the light coming in was beautiful. my bug was there, but he was human. i think there was a bonfire (gave off no heat and no smoke, but worked) in the middle of the living space which my bug attended. this time he was human sized, but not tall because i didn't have to look up at him. or maybe he was a bit tall. i hugged him from behind in a way that meant i had missed hugging him since oh so long ago. i closed my eyes and rested my face on his back, near his shoulders. three girls came in, all white, all strange to me. they wanted to see something, either my bug or the alien life forms out there. i told them to go away, but they wouldn't listen, so i gave them a speech while digging my nails into their bare legs, which left bright red spots on them which could be seen from afar. the nice thing was that i could dig with all my strength, and knew at some level that they hurt, but they were very nonchalant about it so i didn't have to cringe at their pain. there was some satisfaction in being able to do that. i think they left eventually. what kind of alien life forms? the ones that popped into my head were some kind of cross between jellyfish and octopus, quite purple, and some other gangly things. but civilized. another change of scene. we were observing colonies of slavewits. these were creatures with beige-mustard colored skin and wore olive green war helmets. very cartoonish, with big eyes and gangly limbs, but they were small creatures. maybe like a puck or one of the characters from the iron dragon's daughter. either children or in a state of perennial childlikeness. big, sad eyes. they were being colonized to labor, vision of hundreds of these pitter patter timid creatures with flashlights on their heads and picks in their hands. i was part of some kind of human family that was either beholding them for the first time, or studying them. a father figher with a goatee and black, curly hair. like a drawn-out and older alphan. like tim curry, but not comical. there was person in particular that wrote down observations about these slavewits on a clipboard. evaluated them against certain adjectives. apparently their kind had never known happiness before. they lived in a state that didn't understand it. they'd not experienced it. i'm not sure if because they were naturally like that, or because they'd been oppressed. but coming into contact with other beings, they began to. an anecdotal evidence: some slavewits came into contact with a merchant selling shrimp and (and? i can't recall... mango maybe, or some other shellfish). the merchant had his shoulders erect (he was also astride a horse), smile on his face because he was finally, after investment and upgrades, proud of his merchandise. seeing this touched the slavewits so for the first time they felt almost HAPPY (evaluating adjectives always in capitals... white, too). another scene where slavewits are not working, are congregating and relaxing after a night. one looked like a child with a mushroom haircut, dressed in white dress shirt with suspenders going into black dress pants. some man, the father figure, in friendly teasing, calls out, look at (did he say the slavewit's name?), he's taller than the rest, ladies, look out! caused some stir among the slavewits. very touching to see them together. another scene where father figure reparts tiny bookbags of all sizes (very practical, with velcro straps and double zipper). the mother figure (jessica from the sci-fi channel dune miniseries, bless her) and i held up our bookbags to compare lengths. actually there were only two or three sizes. i went for the one that was just big enough to hold my bug (didn't want a full size one, i think i was thinking i didn't want to carry an actual bag around el centro for fear of mugging), though it wasn't the color i wanted (i had some red or purple thing, i probably wanted a blue thing, or some kind of other combination of wants and diswants, but in any case the one i wanted was stained in the inside, or had unpleasant yellow crumbs in it... i briefly thought about throwing these into the wash, but i feared they would come out with their insides fluffy and coming off, i mean, these loose silky strings that disturb the zipper path). there was a very serious air about the whole thing, as if we were going to embark on a mission.