"Do you like this flouncy dress dear, it's pink!" MiMi's mother asked her young four year old. "Oh mommy, I love THIS one!" Mimi picked out the pink tulle dress from the designer rack. "Oh Mimi, it is beautiful, and because you are more beautiful than any dress, more beautiful than any thing in this whole wide world; it's yours!" Janet fed from the excitment in her little girl's eyes and her giddy jumping up and down.
What a dress? What could possibly make this dress so much more than the ordinary? What could this dress really mean to her little girl? A dream dress for a child's fantasy, of make-believe, or rather of believing in something, more than this world of dreams that are broken far too soon.
Did her little girl believe in something more than Janet's own world which could not wait? Janet could not perceive of her little girl's exact world; a magic world she did sense. Janet could feel her daughter positively possessing the positive world of dreams come true and fantasy fufilled. Janet had locked away for years her heart of hope. As if in some forgotten hopechest waiting to use her forever unused pillowcases in her marshmallow yet not cookie-cutter via Mattel dream world.
Janet first found her world was not all shiny with brand new everything far too soon. When the defiant cracks and breaks crept up like ivy vines on the walls of her decayed reality, Janet seemed to vacate her once safe world. Now riddled by years of frayed nerves of never knowing anything but "no", Janet drifted in and out of the many small black dots surrounding her matrixed self. As if life were an intersecting highway where Janet could only watch traffic pass in front of her, seeing the the real world a blur of never. Janet could only think that any participation in a world before reality, of fantasy, she would pedestal and extol such more infinite virtues.
Janet could relive but for a moment the secret world not heard, not eradicated by overload and too loud, drowned out by discordant noise. Those loose but not cracked not wholly broken those living in a twilight world of stagnation, this was Janet's world. It was no oversight, her world was hopeless and by her overwrought self the seething decay of a thousand blackened atomic dots clearly coming from the outer reaches of deepest dark and spent space.
The party would be the proclamation by Janet of her reclamation to herself, her individuality, her dreams unfufilled yet hopeful still. The party would be the most dream she could make her floundering reality. But she needed more power to do this, and how? How could she recreate a perfect moment for her daughter when all was lost to reclaimed space as vacant as the dull looking eyes?
Boo-Boo The Clown had something Janet did not, the magic of childhood kept in check, kept in the back of the parking lot, if not in the back of his baggy pants!
Matter converging, reemerging, never staying the same. Places shifting like sand, new places every few years, new faces, the past buried and forgotten as if a disease. Where was the core to her being, her essence, her existence? Her core certainly had been tested. Her metal proving to be tougher than the facts of what she had always been up against; fate and the single girl.
Mimi was her only love now, her only focus on what matter to her. Janet felt this love was the only love she could possess, she could hold onto for more than a time.
Janet's faith in all things fair in the world stopped when she was the same age as Mimi was now. At four Janet felt her hold onto a light-filled world melt away into hidden cerbral recesses. Soon the new construct of post deconstructionism took on the dull gray hue with flattened horizon fields.
and ended with love. This overflow made for this moment, through the impossible disconnection between matter and antimatter a place where, for a moment, all life could truly live and be believers dreams that this dress would secure her fantasy world for a moment? A dress to make a child's fantasy world come true if not for just a moment. Janet would try to make
this moment last forever; to make a snapshot of this bliss, as it would slip all too soon from her fingers and her grasp on the dream would loose it's sterling grip. How many promises broken? How many wounds healed how many heart-shattering events thrown into the sea of forgetfulness for all time. Time the eternal enemy of man.
For Janet, all her dreams. her schemes, and renewed hope for humanity and the reality zone earth-world would came together as the dress was sown with belief in the incredible. This world of beyond the pigeon-holed reality of what we can only see, there is so much more to the dream than any can know. And so, with this dress, Janet made more perfect than any other wish called out from the bottom of her heart, life itself..
Oh what a dress that looked like no other yet known deep down; this is what life is like if it were a set design. Resplendent, as if life was shining from the sequins and lace. And then there was the dress; something which defyied gravity, all natural elements we're sure we know, defying all else the world has to offer. The dress stood alone, like Janet, believing in herself, her dreams, her reality begotten not made from this tactile fabric. Instead the dress redress a cold universe, a world apart from hers. Janet would recreate, be a part of the renewed creative process, of the world prior. Janet was not present in this world wholly attained by ill gain and horrible actions that would never allow the word could in Janet's vocabulary.
Something her little girl wanted all year to go along with her perfect birthday party on the thirteenth was her daddy. "Is daddy going to be there?" Janet could only say yes as to not stop her daughter's perfect dream. (to be continued...)