December 5, 2008
We were hanging out in my room. We sat around smoking killing time, when I stood up and realized I was completely undressed. I stood there and cracked a few jokes without attempting to cover myself up at all. Chris left to go somewhere, but left Dustin behind, although she left the immediate area as well. I must have put some clothes on, because before I knew it, the doorbell rang and I was answering it.
On the other side of the door was my dead maternal Grandfather, the way that he looked when he was healthy. He gave me a hug and said he was back. Every sensation about him was right, down to the smell of White Owl cigar smoke on his clothes. I called for my brother, “There’s someone here you should see,” and he came down the stairs as I ran up. I was angry, yelling about how I didn’t believe it was really him. No one wanted to be around me because I was so angry.
My Grandfather had brought with him a young cousin of mine. As I was sitting in my room, at my computer, still venting frustration, I noticed that Dustin was keeping my cousin entertained by playing some kind of game. Her and my cousin walked into my room, although my cousin was covered so no one could see the costume. I mistakenly complimented the covering, to which she replied if I liked that, to just wait. She removed the covering to reveal my cousin in a well-tailored skull outfit.
My brother walked back up the stairs, and had one of his band mates with him. He introduced us, but his friend proceeded to pass out on my bed. “Make yourself at home!” I blurted sarcastically. I warned him that I would probably steal the comforter from off him while he slept. At that moment, I realized that there was not only a party downstairs, but that it had gotten completely out of control. I looked at the clock, which said it was almost 3am. So I started telling all my brothers friends to leave. Naturally no one was happy about this. I watched people stream out of the house into the front and back yards. People in the front yard were getting into vans, cars, and even a limo that lined my street. My back yard was being torn up by the mob. Someone had apparently found money in the backyard somehow, so people were digging holes in the grass in search of more.
Despite the flood of people in the streets heading to their cars, cars were actually arriving. When I opened the front door, Melanie C and Meghan R were there, both drunk, wanting to join the party. I told them the party was over, but they came in anyway. When I insisted they leave, they said they couldn’t drive because they were drunk. Somehow, they convinced Dustin to drive them home in a van which I suppose belonged to them. Another car arrived, Chris was back, this time with Justin S, Danny D, and some other people I hadn’t seen for a while. I also told them that the party was over. Justin gave me a hard time and also insisted that I show him how the party had ended. I walked him inside for a moment and he grudgingly accepted that the party had ended. I shuffled everyone back down the steps, as I heard people making comments about how I deserved to get my ass kicked for ending the party. I walked into the guest bedroom facing the front of our house, and watched as the crowd continued to disperse, albeit slowly and sloppily. I realized I didn’t say goodbye and watched as everyone left and I was alone again.
Posted by punq under Dreams | Comments (0)
November 4, 2008
Wasn’t it just perfect?
That the doors were left unlocked to this utility room
I guess sparks just fly / when you and I / contact eyes
Imagine just you and me / producing all this place’s electricity?
I didn’t forget / but can’t you?
Could he ever love you / like I do?
We’re almost caught, and we don’t belong here
So when that stranger sees us, run
Even here, when you run, I can’t keep that pace
Even in dreams, you’re the most beautiful thing in this place
I must have missed that part where we discussed
How we trust / in the strength of water and concrete dust
You’re hotter than quicklime, and you’re burning me
Hell is life without you for eternity
Don’t you like letting our bodies explore?
Isn’t this great / don’t you just love the decor?
Condensate pipes, exposed wires, and a concrete floor
You, I’d dream anything for
“Have you seen her? She’s tough to miss
If you should find her, tell her that I need her kiss”
When I finally find you / now who’s that right behind you?
Curse the daylight that takes you from me
Posted by punq under Dreams | Comments (0)
July 26, 2008
Alternate title: The right to arm bears
Suicide, it turned out, tasted not like the cold barrel of a gun but instead like an artificially sweetened malt liquor.
I lost my mind before I even walked through the gated arches of the police station. The psychological effect of the drugs was strong and my will to live free was gone. I told the dispatcher I was there to confess to crimes – I was dying from the drug and it was time to confess my wrongdoings before the final judgment.
Contrary to the popular perception of dying it was a uniformed police officer, and not St. Peter, that was taking my final deposition as I sat there facing the consequences of my choices. For nearly fifteen minutes, the officer listened as I rambled on about various perceived wrongs I’d committed, which were primarily focused on poor choices often related to my drug and alcohol abuse. It was clear that the policeman was getting very frustrated that he’d had to deal with me at all. His attitude was that I was wasting his time. He said he needed to address something else and asked that I return to the waiting area in the lobby.
At the moment I slumped down into the chair and started to hang my head low, another police officer arrived inside, walking through the same gated arches with a black bear cub escorted in his custody. That officer turned the bear over to a booking officer and walked back out through a set of sliding glass doors that let in a glorious amount of sunlight. The soft glow of the sun, and the slow saunter back to sobriety started to elevate my mood. The gentle rays from the sun beaming down on me energized me. I realized life was worth living.
At the same moment, the booking officer took the handcuffs off the black bear cub, and instantaneously, the black bear cub let out a deafening roar and threw the booking officer to the ground with a single sweeping push. Next it circled the waiting room while loudly expelling its horrible screaming sounds from its voice box. I was fascinated and couldn’t help but stare at the bear. It soon noticed this and became aggressive towards me.
Looking right into my eyes, it roared again, and I was tharned by the gravity of the situation. The bear acted quickly and decisively to lunge towards me. I was knocked aside, but the bear managed to bite into my arm with a surprisingly weak chomping force. It didn’t even feel like it broke the skin. I was able to shake the bear off.
But the experience of defeat seemed to only galvanize the bear. Now it was distraught and seeking revenge. The bear managed to find a long rifle and picked it up between its teeth. The bear pointed the weapon at all the people in the waiting room in a threatening manner, like it was about to execute every last one of us.
But with a thunderous boom, an officer outside blasted a 12-gauge slug shot through the sliding glass doors and into the bear’s torso. The single shot was devastating to the cub, now laying there with the rifle beside it, surrounded by a pool of its own blood.
During the ensuing confusion, I simply walked out of the station and never returned. The entire experience was so hard to deal with, it started me drinking again.
Posted by punq under Dreams | Comments (0)
April 14, 2007
My neighbors really need to start obeying zoning laws. I’m driving by, and what do I see? A flatbed tow truck parked right on their roof. And next to the tow truck is a guy standing on the roof, building another house right on top of the roof of the other house. I’m wondering how this two-story, wooden house can support all this weight. I reach a stop sign at the corner where this house is, and as I make a left turn onto the intersecting street, I see the wooden ramp he’s built to drive the cars onto his roof. It turned out the tow truck wasn’t the only vehicle on the roof. There were also three passenger cars with yellow light bars, parked at the frighteningly steep incline of the roof. I think I might write a letter when I wake up.
Posted by punq under Dreams | Comments (0)
April 7, 2007
The fluorescent track lights are lit too early; it’s only 6 AM and the light from the sun isn’t even pouring in yet. The other riders are split between sleep and stress, where this author prefers the former. But that locomotive’s diesel droning just lulled me back to sleep like I was at home in my bed. With my eyes closed but my ears unclosable, the train refused to allow me the courtesy of a full deep sleep. But deeper and deeper down, I would have never known. The train started to become less and less real. The “no smoking” sign in the corner made me ask: am I smoking? Remembering my laptop in my travelling bag made me ask: am I on my computer right now? If I am on my computer, am I looking at something other people on the train shouldn’t see? I saw a black and white photo of a nude woman. Is there a sign telling me not to get hot over this photo? But there comes and there goes my stop, and now I know this morning is off to a bad start.
Posted by punq under Dreams | Comments (0)
February 10, 2007
When had I been here before? This place looked like a postcard from one of the abandoned gift shops on the Taconic parkway. There was a wide body of flowing water, a cliff over which it was flowing, and in the other direction, a massive construction project overhauling some old building near the way. I drove my 93 Mitsubishi Diamante right down the dirt road towards the water, and then into the water. The water was only about two feet deep, and it seemed drivable, as if I had been to this place before. I followed the water against its direction of flow for about two hundred feet before cutting the wheel to the left and trying to pull it back up onto dry land. The land I selected wasn’t exactly dry, either. So I turned the car around and tried to head back to where I started. The engine was now flooded and wouldn’t even crank over. Pushing the car, I neared an edge where water flowed freely over. When the front wheels went over the cliff, I knew the car was about to escape me. I had a leash tethering me to the car and vice versa, but it snapped without haste. The car and I went over the edge of the waterfall, and the car sank without delay. But I could open my eyes underwater here, and I could see my car at the bottom, alongside a blue and white Mini Cooper that had also made its way to the bottom. My front wheel was also broken off, probably from the impact against the river floor. But I took a deep breath, swam down to my car, and started the long journey to push it out. But it was of no help, since with everything soaked in water the car wouldn’t start once it was back on land anyway.
These two girls in a car drove up to me and asked if I had driven my car into the river, and I said yes. They said I shouldn’t have tried to be sneaky and take it in (also, I didn’t sign-in at the entrance). I noticed a stick of dynamite, unexploded, sitting right behind me. If only I had a lighter, but alas I too was soaking wet and incapable of immolating anything. The conversation drew me towards the nearby construction, and I peeked inside, seeing the bare wall supports and plasterboard still going up through the pane-glass doors. I opened the door and walked in, and started walking down towards the basement. But the basement, it turned out, was not under construction at all, it was a bustling underground bar. And walking around the perimeter of that floor, I realized there was yet another underground level still: a grand hall with wood trim and wood décor everywhere, and with yet another stairway to another basement level.
This third basement resembled a subway station, with cool white tiles and light, except that the ceiling was too low (no more than five feet), which was supposed to be a “security feature†according to someone I overheard. I didn’t want to be down there, so I started to run as fast as I could through the tunnels. I passed friends and family and lovers in the tunnels and none of them said a word to me. Running out of this complex I found myself topside again, back where I had parked my car in this quiet and unsuspecting scene from a postcard.
Posted by punq under Dreams | Comments (0)
