The past couple of days I'd heard in passing on the news that the drug Diprivan was found in Michael Jackson's home. It's an intravenous drug used in operating rooms to sedate patients for surgery (and which can cause cardiac arrest if not used properly or monitored properly). A former nurse of MJ's was interviewed saying that he'd begged her for the drug because he couldn't sleep, but that she'd refused him.
For some reason, the idea that he would be asking for such a drug horrified me. He was THAT miserable. He had insomnia to such a degree that he was begging for a surgical knock-out drug.
This afternoon, hours before heading out to the fireworks, I was napping and had a very, very heavy dream (both physically and psychologically): I was reading my personal e-mails, and had 3 from Michael Jackson. He was explaining to me that he'd used Diprivan 3 times [specifically 3 times] before, and that it had helped him then. And that he hadn't had any idea that he was going to die from it.
I woke up with two lines imprinted in my head, as if from a poem, opening with:
"the dripdripdrip of deprivation"
and ending with:
With the punctuation exactly like that. Exactly like that, the number of "to sleep"s and the last "d" cut off.
I'm not a huge Michael Jackson fan. I followed him, like everyone else of my generation, through "Off the Wall" and "Thriller" and "Bad" and then, like most others, lost track of him musically and then just caught whatever scandals were erupting... But this dream, and its very specific lines, really disturbed me.
Diprivan has to be administered through an IV = the "dripdripdrip." "Deprivation" = "sleep deprivation"? the constant "dripdripdrip" of emotional deprivation, creating as water does ultimately, a grand canyon?
The phrase "To sleep perchance to dream" I knew, as an English major, from Hamlet's famous soliloquy:
"To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep—
No more—and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep—
To sleep—perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub!
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause...."
Fuck! Sleep vs. Death. Life vs. Death. "To be or not to be." And the fucking ending of the line that the dream gave me: "...tosleeptosleepperchancetod..." Yeah, I woke up knowing "to sleep perchance to DREAM." But this cut-off line, with its missing letters at the end, insinuated also that the finish was "to die." (And the cutting off of the word also indicated a sudden stoppage.) And the last 3 letters of the line, "tod," spell the German word for "die."
Now, I know I posted something here a couple of months ago about being depressed about the loss of my job, my cat, etc., and that no one cared, boo hoo, and that I was going to wait until after seeing the grand 4th of July fireworks on the Hudson, and after that, what did I have to live for, really... JESUS! Things are much, much better for me now! I'm not EVEN thinking along those lines personally. BUT...
I must say I'm very curious: What in the heck am I doing receiving dream e-mails and lines of death poetry from Michael Jackson of all people??????????