December 15, 2004
comment security codes
Well, after 70 comment spams over the last two weeks, I've had to put comment security codes back in place. Sorry for the inconvenience--let this not deter you real people from posting.
final javelin acts of desperation
After pulling an all nighter this weekend, Jake is hit by a sudden burst of insanity & we tear off in his car. We're going nowhere. It's more sad than crazy or anything else...there's a sense of final desperation in all this & I know somehow where it's coming from.
We trudge out into the woods pointlessly, a cold gray day getting colder and grayer. Eventually he agrees to walk back to the car but is karate chopping everything in sight with a big stick. When we get to his car he javelin-throws this big stick at it in a final fit of exasperation.
Must have been a perfect end-on hit: when we get in we see the entire windshield has spiderweb cracks radiating out from the bottom. Jake is screaming and pounding the steering wheel but I'm just laughing, it's too funny, "You can't even have fun by yourself in this town without something like this happening," he says. On top of it all his cell phone is missing and we have to trudge back through the woods in the cold dark, calling it.
December 11, 2004
overwhelmed by remorse
Dream in which I am bow fishing in a stream. I shoot a small albino dolphin. It subsequently climbs out and waddles around, upright, on shore, arrows sticking out of its back. There are people around watching and murmurs of disapproval. I'm crying, overwhelmed by remorse.
December 06, 2004
the fear
Last night Jake & I were driving to the store, when a series of cones walling off one lane from another on a one-way street severely confused me, and I ended up turning onto O Street brit-style.
"You're on O Street," Jake says. This doesn't click so he says it again. Suddenly I realize there are two rows of headlights up ahead coming toward me. I am driving right into oncoming traffic. I swerve across three lanes of traffic and merge to the far right, and we notice that the car we were headed for was a cop. I get the fear.
"Go go go" Jake's yelling "before he has a chance to turn around!" We tear out to West Lincoln and I turn off onto a sidestreet, make a few more turns and pull up in a parking lot. A black cat darts out in front of my car. "Gimme one of those cigarettes," I say. Usually I can't stand them. We pile out and stand out in the freezing drizzle of a terrible dark day turned terrible dark night, smoking two cigarettes, and discussing the enormous American flag that droops above us at a nearby gas station.
making the bus
Dream in which I leave for the bustop, Ed is already ahead of me and seems to be turning back to go to the house...this a common scenario: we'd walk out the door a little too late, and see the bus pulling up from the top of the hill. There'd be no point in running. Just walk back the house and get a ride from mom.
"We can still make it," I say. On the way we stop to play in a small ornamental pond with some other tourists. Turns out it's infested with snakes: there's a big hibernating ball of them beneath a rock in the center. A woman makes a point of showing me that there's nothing to be afraid of. Demonstratively, she tosses them birdseed, which they devour.
Finally we crest the hill, but it has become a mountain. In fact it is so high we can barely see to the bottom through all that atmospheric shading. We must navigate a series of perilous switchbacks and balconies built into the side of the cliff. It's a rickety setup built from pvc pipe, or some kind of doozer ish material, and I am experiencing extreme vertigo as I swing, tarzan-like, from pole to pole.
Don't know if we ever made the bus.
picking up the pieces
Slowly I am picking up the pieces of my broken life. Well that's not actually true my life remains broken. But at least I'm picking up the pieces of my broken blog: a nasty crash brought the site down about a month ago, and I've lost everything from Sept. 2004 - right now.
Which wasn't much, I had kind of stopped blogging except for posting shell scripts and stuff on maelstrom. No one but me will probably miss those entries. :)
If a man blogs in a forest and no one is around to read his entries, is he still a loser?