I woke up and realized that I had fallen back in time by three years. I was back in Texas, I made breakfast and my parents sat there reading the paper. I felt excited. I already know everything that would happen in three years, and besides that’s three extra years of life. But I really should have actually been a sports fan. Placed some bets on a few Super Bowls, make it rich. But too late for that.
Eventually I started seeing things slip. People weren’t the same. Customs of society had shifted.
I began feeling paranoid. I figured I was either dreaming or slipped into another universe. I started pinching myself and yelling, trying to see if I could wake myself. The people around me were increasingly cracking, weird and maddening. I would push them, punch them, demanding they tell me what was happening. I tried controlling them as if I was dreaming but nothing happened.
I began thinking that I was dying. I tried to remember my last memory before I fell asleep. Had I slumped down on the tile of a bathroom floor…some friends walked in and said that this could be the space between life and death. Where a second could stretch into an eternal dream. That maybe I had a brain aneurysm and life was draining out of me.
I sat on the floor and tried my hardest to think about my last memories. I tried to think about as much of my life as my head could contain. I imagined that body laying there dying as I sat in this other place. Then I just waited for things to end.
Last night, when i saw him speak at Pratt. Apparently, his whole speech about it was covered: http://nymag.com/daily/intelligencer/2014/02/spike-lee-amazing-rant-against-gentrification.html
(Source: New York Magazine)