What Are You Looking For?

Dream # 23 last night (05/26/10)
I’m on some flimsy wooden raft in the middle of this rough waterway. I can see land on each side of me. Waves are reaching twenty feet high. The horrifying nature of the ordeal knocks me out in the dream.

-------------

One time in the 80’s I would put cologne on when I went out for the night. Like Polo cologne. What a fucking loser. The second I stepped outside someone should have smashed me in the face with a pink aluminum softball bat six times. I wonder if wearing cologne has ever worked for anyone. We were just going to the ice cream shop and then home.

--------------

If I try and think back to around ages 6-10 it is kind of blank. We lived in Los Angeles, I seemed pretty occupied with Kiss records, dirt bikes and Suzanne Somers. I don’t remember what a day was like. What time did I wake up? When did I eat? What did my voice sound like? All shit I really don’t want to know, but it seems odd to think of yourself that young and how you were. I think with me it would freak me out as it would be me before I was a fuck up.



Dream # 11 (“a few months ago”)
I’m in some weird canyon. It’s dry and tanned everywhere. Everything is sunny bright yellow and light dirt. One hundred yards away or so I see a group of people standing around talking. A loud chuckle erupts every few minutes. I try and move towards them but every time I do one of the people in the group does some odd motion with their hand and a bolt of electricity comes shooting out of their hand, striking me on the leg so I can no longer move.



Her name was Stacie. She worked in some office downtown or something. Theodore knew her from Popeye’s Fried Chicken. At night she would drink wine until she passed out in the living room. One time Theodore took her to see some Robin Williams movie and she threw up all over his cock behind a Cracker Barrel out on Rt 6.



I can remember plenty of things from my teenage years, and some from my twenties. Other than that, everything gets blurry. Same with being a teenager, why would I ever want to know what that kid was like? Sometimes I talk to friends from that era now, ex-girlfriends from when I was like fourteen and the terms boyfriend and girlfriend didn’t really mean much anyway. Their last impression of me is of a fifteen year old kid or something, How odd. I imagine if I was even remotely the same as I was then I wouldn’t have a single friend. I was pretty awkward and quiet and introverted and angry and whatever else unfortunate word you can think of.



Dream # 20 (05/24/10)
Some guys voice saying “the rooms are fifty dollars each, and no you can’t play that guitar in here and the cat has to stay in the car”

-----------

His name was Ian, he worked for the Public Works Department. In the summers as you tip toed back home from the beach to avoid burning your already half charred feet you would see Ian driving around in one of those orange trucks. He was happy to pick up other people’s trash. At one point he bought a lottery ticket and told everyone he was going to win enough money to finally leave town. On the night of the drawing he was killed by a car walking his dog (the dog also died). His numbers did not come out. All of those orange trucks have those numbers he played painted on the side of them now. The numbers have never been drawn.



This man is always in here. He kind of makes me nervous. You will see him here in the afternoon and if you drive by or stop in later at night he’ll still be here. Some days he will take his shoes off while he is sitting there, Other days he has all of these items with him, drinks, three or four of them. It appears he orders probably the cheapest drink and then just sits here all day. Some days he makes phone calls on his cell and is louder than he needs to be. The main deal though, his eyes. He has that look in his eyes that just says “I’m crazy”. He just sat down and two women got up in left. Imagine having that power? You sit down and people just leave because you are weirding people out. I would jump off a bridge if that happened.

----------

I feel disconnected all over the place now. These last couple of years, losing touch with people, getting back in touch with them but then feeling like everything is different. I feel like an intruder sometimes. Like I have no place in any new circle of friends. This is why it was tough in California. Who wants to be the new guy ever? I’d rather wallow in nothing and be this person instead. Everyone I know already is fine, and unless it’s via them, her, etc I can’t imagine getting into some new group of people. Wait, I don’t think I’m actually being serious here. Strange how sometimes words just come out of you because they feel good to say or type out. Sometimes shit can just come out of me like this that holds no bearing on reality. I feel like I wrote lyrics like this quite a bit.



Speaking of lyrics I recently started putting an entry together from my old band’s lyrics...particularly our last album as I enjoyed writing them, performing them, recording them and ultimately coming up with the final product which would have been our fourth album but was never released. I’m still thinking of releasing it though as I feel like it needs to be put out, even if only like sixteen people buy it.



Dream # 8 (“a long time ago”)
On this long highway that has been seemingly going on for hours and hours. The sky is huge, biggest sky I have ever seen in my life. Everything is bright and almost hurts my eyes. I finally reach the horizon and just fly off into nowhere.

-----------

I can’t imagine another version of her than the one I know and have grown to love. Different feelings getting tugged in every direction. Different emotions and ways to go about each day. When I think of every last good memory we have, winding roads, old baseball parks, Disneyland, towers and monuments and gorgeous blue skies and gorgeous smiles and hair to make me feel warmer than anyone else will feel. When I think of everything invented in my brain though, I don’t trust myself, I don’t trust anyone else. I don’t want to have to listen to what anyone else tells me about my feelings and life aside from her and I. I don’t want to worry about strangers and long lost friends who think they know how I am. Nobody knows how I am, what is best for me or where I need to be. The only thing that matters to me right now is her smile.



Dream # 1 ("a couple of years ago")
Not dangerously high above the ocean, but high enough that it would hurt to fall. She approaches me and I grab her face inside her hooded sweatshirt and kiss her. I fall asleep to this every night for a year.