Dreaming of a mashup

I’m in Panamá. No. I’m in São Paulo. Wait. My grandmother is here and she wants a water. Mom wants an orange pop. Sister wants orange too. So I put the 75¢ into the thirty year-old vending machine and out pops three orange pops. Obviously that’s all they have today. My sister went to the bathroom and my grandma and mom have disappeared. I wander outside to take in the environment.

Down the street is a three-lane highway. One in each direction and a center lane. The lines are faint, yet do their job. It’s overcast to the left, but the sun is bright on the other side. Otherworldly. The lighting makes the entire scene seem more dreary than it really is. And cooler. It’s actually scorching hot.

I look behind me and there’s an enormous building. It starts to say São… but it’s a soccer dome — a very large soccer dome, which reminds me of the theatres on the West Bank in London. Large, concrete. And a designed soccer ball for a sign (sponsored by Pepsi, of course) towers above. The building looks to be AT LEAST 20 storeys up, but it’s probably my exaggerated mind. On the other side of the street are condos that rise just as high. Still, the soccer pitch seems out of place here. I need to photograph this.

I take off the lens cap to my Ricoh XR-M and point it down the horizon. There’s a bug smack in the middle of my view. I look at the lens, and it’s no small big. In fact it’s squishy body has made quite a mess. I don’t have a cloth, so I just flick it only to make the mess messier. My sister’s now ex-boyfriend offers to help, appearing out of nowhere. Because he cannot make the situation right, we are whisked away to his apartment where we has the cloths to clean the lens.

Back at his apartment, I’m looking around as though I’ve never been here though it all seems familiar. We never get the lens cleaned, and I am craving my orange pop which has vanished since I bought them.

And then I wake up.