Sobbing I dreamt of Gaza last night. I'd been there before, many times. We were visiting a relative in Borj al Borajne, the sign for Gaza in the world of sleep. It was a symptomatic rendition of a proto-typical slum in the Arab world, places you never see unless you have chosen that path. There were orphans there in a room where a dozen or so Arabs were sitting and one orphan in particular who was being bullied by everyone. The orphan had very tiny eyes that never opened. I went to the orphan and picked her up. Her tiny eyes opened as I cradled her well. There was so much love and longing between us. I then had to leave with the group that had accompanied me to the slum. I somehow got separated although as I passed the correct path, the one that went down a hill..I instead went up the hill all alone. I took a wheelbarrow from a worker at the fork in the road in order to carry something. At the top of the hill it became clear I was in the nice part of Gaza, the universal slum. The buildings changed..I noticed terrace gardens where someone had capped their potted plants with old plastic bottles to create terrariums. I was getting more and more nervous, the buldings were getting more opulent and modern. I was in trouble, getting further and further away from my group. I entered a salon and asked to use a lady's cell phone and she agreed but said she had to do some things first. I knew if I called Mel he'd come and get me and the number I can never remember while awake became quite clear. The woman however was deliberately avoiding me to prevent me from leaving her salon, that world of beauty in which she performed an endless number of tasks to put me off. I finally decided to ask one of the customers and went from face to face, person to person and crying. No, because in my dreams I do not cry. I sob tremendously hard. It was one of these dreams that are so common with me now as if to populate every single dream I have anymore. They all end up in desperation until I fully acknowledge that I have the power to end the nonsense. I choose to wake up. I sense an enormous sense of relief knowing that incontinence missed my house once more time.