Dream Museum
Last night I dreamt that I went to a high-tech art museum. There were no employees. A sensor detected my presence and opened an air-lock, and thus I gained admission.
There was only one other person in the quiet museum, a chubby 13-year-old girl. We sat down to watch one of the first video installations. It turned out to be a video of a man having sex with a morbidly obese woman (think 800 pounds).
I felt uncomfortable. What did this poor girl think? To show my disapproval of the piece I turned to her and said, "Don't you just hate how he's jabbing her breasts?"
She looked glum. "I'm fat. Will anyone want me?"
I assured her that she was only a little plump, that lots of boys would like her, and that she was not nearly as horrendous as the woman on the screen.
I skipped the rest of the museum after I saw a man run off with my backpack, which I had foolishly left outside the museum. I chased him for a long time, but he lost me in a complicated series of buildings and I gave up.
There was only one other person in the quiet museum, a chubby 13-year-old girl. We sat down to watch one of the first video installations. It turned out to be a video of a man having sex with a morbidly obese woman (think 800 pounds).
I felt uncomfortable. What did this poor girl think? To show my disapproval of the piece I turned to her and said, "Don't you just hate how he's jabbing her breasts?"
She looked glum. "I'm fat. Will anyone want me?"
I assured her that she was only a little plump, that lots of boys would like her, and that she was not nearly as horrendous as the woman on the screen.
I skipped the rest of the museum after I saw a man run off with my backpack, which I had foolishly left outside the museum. I chased him for a long time, but he lost me in a complicated series of buildings and I gave up.
