CONFESSIONS FROM A MAN CALLED BUBBLES...

Maybe it was from listening to a mix of B52's and Barbra as I read Patti Smith's latest collection of poems, "Auguries of Innocence" --- or maybe it was some residue from that article I read by Rob Zombie in Film Comment magazine. Whatever the cause I had a very troubling dream.

I dreamt I had wild sex with Michael Jackson.

And I liked it. ...In the dream, I mean. I was so disgusted when I woke up. Night terrors. He kept making this odd little sound as we got it on. And, I kept being bothered by the strong scent of peppermint and cotton candy.

He asked me if I could cal him "Bubbles" --- the worst part is I ran my fingers thru his hair and said, "You can call me anything you like, baby"

---- SHUDDER -- NOW BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST NEAREST PIECE OF HARD FURNITURE!

Then I managed to fall back into sleep. I had yet another dream from Hell. I dreamt that I was "there" as Scavullo was taking pix of Babs and Kris for A STAR IS BORN promotion and LP art. I was asked to assist the make-up artist and apply powder to Barbra's chest as Fancisco felt it was too shiny in the lights. I felt small and declined, but was then advised that I had no choice. Barbra would not let the make-up lady anywhere near her breast area. I was so nervous.

I walked up to them. They were both sharing little secrets with each other, but I could Kristofferson stank of Jack Daniels. I then realized that I was only 9 years old as this was the summer of 1976 and my fingers couldn't fit around the powder bowl. It slipped out of my hands. I showered Barbra with powder. She was covered. She let out this primal scream that filled my head --- then I woke up. Luckily, it was time to get up anyway.

I still violated and quite vulnerable...