PART I:
I was running. Bags flying under my arms, I was half way to my terminal when it hit me. I was on my way to board an international flight and I had not only forgotten my plane ticket, but my passport as well. Frantic and shaking I called my mother in hopes she would be able to bring my credentials to board the flight I desperately needed to catch.
No answer. I called three more times. Nothing.
Knowing I could not board my flight without the missing necessities, I grabbed a hotel room to shack up for the night. The airport was 15 minutes away from my home, but I felt it necessary to pay for the stay while I waited for someone to bring me what I needed. I was lounging in this immaculate room, much larger than my parent's front room and kitchen combined when she called.
It was the woman that I had been seeing and was desperately interested in. Everything I had ever wanted for 5 years and she was finally looking at me the way I had been looking at her. Long shiny brown hair. A perfect white smile. Hazel eyes, and quite a bit shorter than me. This girl had taken me years ago, but now I felt as though she was all mine.
She was sobbing. First I thought it was due to my trip and the dangers that could possibly await me. Or that she was terrified of flying and was worried something would go wrong with the plane. When she finally found her voice I was shocked at her first statement, "How could you do this to me? How could you hurt me this way? You promised!" Stunned, I sat wide eyed in one of the leather modern shaped chairs from IKEA, where at least 95% of the room was decorated from. What had I done? Do I even remember? She spoke up again, "How could you cheat on me?" Baffled I quickly tried to recall when this "cheating" could have taken place. We had only recently started seeing each other from a long break which we both went on to have children and fell in love with others, but for whatever reason I was being accused of something I had not done since well before she and I had reconnected. I mean, years. I wasn't the same person. I had removed the people and temptations in my life well before she come back. I could not recall a single instance that would have been classified as cheating. Then, the harlot burst through the door.
A female parasite I had never wanted to see again in my life. A walking sexual organ that thrived on nothing more than taking over a man's livelihood and bleeding them dry. I had been seeing her before anything had gotten serious with my new lady, and once I knew where my heart lied I kicked her to the curb faster than a Big Mac flies out of a drive-thru window. She was repulsive. A "wanna-be" hippie, herb loving, filthy immature, high maintenance waste of space. She came dancing into the room as if she owned the place.
Perfect timing. All I wanted was a bottle of whiskey and a .45 magnum to end the site in front of me.
The call was disconnected and found myself yelling at my new unexpected guest. I wanted her out of there quicker than she had arrived. She refused to leave. Taunting me. Teasing and telling me I could "never get rid of her". I was trapped. All I wanted was to leave at this point. I didn't care about my trip to China anymore. I needed to get back to my lady as soon as possible. But, she was already gone. I could never reach her again. I watched my life slip through my fingers in a matter of seconds. All that I ever wanted for 5 years. 60 months. 1,780 days was gone in an instant. Never to return and for what? Something I had never done. A clean conscious.
PART II:
I was warm in my favorite faux leather jacket with a grey zip up hooded sweater underneath. My mother was there, a few siblings, my son and his mother. They were all sitting on a long bench and I was standing adjacent to their right. Watching. Learning. Listening.
My son's mother and I went for a walk and talked like the old friends we are. The life of our son and the direction we wanted to help him follow. Our hopes and dreams for him one day and where we could see his personality taking him in the years to come. It was then in that moment that I realized I was not looking at the same girl I had once fallen in love with so many years ago. But, a woman. A different woman. A mother. She had changed. I had changed and we were better off now in this new light than we had been in our party days with no responsibilities other than basic living needs.
We wandered back to the area where we knew everyone to be and my son came running up to me exclaiming he had found the bug. The Glow Bug. Now, this is where things get a little interesting. This supposed bug was to give my son his very own ship if we squeezed the bug in the right area. How was this possible? Ask the nicotine patch. I still cant explain it. Regardless, the next thing I know I walked into my son's room to see this bug tied up to the ceiling like a light with materials flowing out of it. They were light weight and multicolored. Red, white, yellow, blue all pouring out of this insect. The Glow Bug. My son had created an assembly team consisting of his aunts, uncles and grandmother. They were stuffing white garbage bags as quickly as possible with this material spitting out of the bug as quickly as they could. He ran up to me and cried out "Daddy, daddy! Look! It's my ship!" I smiled and bent down to pick him up. Trying to explain the purpose of this bug to my mother, and what it would do was far too much for her to take in. She shrugged this off and continued to pick the material off the table and transfer it into the designated garbage bags.
The room was full in a matter of minutes with the Glow Bug, and my little boy never stopped smiling.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
The Minions & The Mud Wrestling Disc Jockey
First Nicotine Dream I've been able to remember for quite some time now. Here goes...
I was at my friend Jared's with other mutual friends. We were playing guitars, drinking whiskey and doing what we do best: being loud and out of control. When out of nowhere people that I hadn't seen since High School start popping up left and right. I felt intimidated. I hated these people then, and I hated them now (with the exception of a few). Most of these people were previous jocks. Peaking in High School and now having nothing to show but a minimum wage job and 4 kids. Now, that's not intended to make me sound as if my life has been any different since High School. I work full-time, have a son and try to maintain a some kind of social status (usually manifested through social media because it does not require me to actually deal with people face to face). I can't say my financial status is the greatest, but my job allows me to take care of what is important while trying to set up for the future.
Anyway, back on to the subject. I got up from the couches we were sitting around which were older, faded cloth that had definitely seen better days, and moved along with the group to the backyard. Now, I've seen my friend's backyard. It's spacious and at the time I had saw it, it was covered in snow because it was just before Christmas. But, when I gazed at it this time around it was mid-summer. There were seats circling the center of the lot and flowing down into a mud pit. At this point I was immediately reminded of the stadium seating at the Bear Lake lodge my family goes to for reunions every year. On the back of the house was a wooden porch with couches, and places to lounge. All with a perfect view of this Colosseum themed mud pit. Within the pit, the seating reminded me of a baseball stadium. The lined the walls, all the way down to the bottom. The next thing I knew I was front roll next to my friend Jared, surrounded by the football team I was loathed in High School.
Everyone wanted to reminisce of the "glory days" they lived almost 10 years ago. I wanted to punch every single one of them in the jugular. The arrogance the flew. The overwhelming feeling of being demoted back to where I once was, was too great. Right as I was about to open up the mouth I had found a use for since those years, the cheering started. I turned around and there he was.
He was large, young, wearing a navy blue hooded zip up sweater and the water he was treading in came just under his waist line. He was carrying two minions wearing smeared face paint, from what looked like the mud surrounding the wooden pool of water they were being dragged through, under his giant arms. He took two massive steps and raised his shoulders and uncurled his arms, exchanging his grip of the two minions to their upper left and right arms. What happened next surprised me to now end. He raised the two above his head and threw them into the shallow water. Everyone cheered.
The event had just begun.
Just then another 10-15 minions come running into the water and attacking him at his legs. He picked them up and repeated the same throwing motion as he had previously. Over and over, the minions came and he conquered. A spectator thought it would be a good idea to take the man by surprise. Needless to say, he didn't last very long. From the side of me I hear "Isn't he a DJ at some club?" Another voice verifies, "Yeah, I just saw him last weekend." I was literally watching a 300+ pound disc jockey pulverize anyone coming into his wooden pool kingdom.
A mother came climbing up the stadium seating carrying two or three of the minions, weeping. Everyone she passed were giving their apologies and condolences. It was then I had realized that the minions were actually adopted children from Africa. Explaining their mud war paint and lack of fear to charge a man 4 times their size in height and weight.
All I could do at this point was watch as this mother carried her children away from this sport, and off to care for their bruises. I was in complete and total shock.
I observed the crowd for a while longer while spotting people that I once knew, and finding they were living up to everything I thought they were 10 years ago. "What a complete waste of human beings." I kept thinking to myself. I turned and looked my friend dead in the eyes, and he knew without me having to say a word what my thoughts my were and the rage that was building inside of me. I turned to leave and while pushing past my former classmates met the shoulder of the person I had always held the most spite for. We made eye contact for a brief moment and as I was making my way again, he grabbed my arm and spun me around. With all the years passing I could have cared less if this person tried to make amends or tried to attack me, but I was on the ready for a brawl if this went south. To my surprise he looked at me and then down again. I noticed the cloth draped over the small child, much like the rest of the little fighters I had seen being pulled from the blood bath wooden pool. I ripped my arm out of his hand, picked up the child and ran. He never stopped me. He wanted me to remove this poor soul for if he had stayed, he would have been next in line for beating from the Loch Ness monster down below.
I strapped the little boy into my car and left. We drove for hours, never stopping.
We just drove.
I was at my friend Jared's with other mutual friends. We were playing guitars, drinking whiskey and doing what we do best: being loud and out of control. When out of nowhere people that I hadn't seen since High School start popping up left and right. I felt intimidated. I hated these people then, and I hated them now (with the exception of a few). Most of these people were previous jocks. Peaking in High School and now having nothing to show but a minimum wage job and 4 kids. Now, that's not intended to make me sound as if my life has been any different since High School. I work full-time, have a son and try to maintain a some kind of social status (usually manifested through social media because it does not require me to actually deal with people face to face). I can't say my financial status is the greatest, but my job allows me to take care of what is important while trying to set up for the future.
Anyway, back on to the subject. I got up from the couches we were sitting around which were older, faded cloth that had definitely seen better days, and moved along with the group to the backyard. Now, I've seen my friend's backyard. It's spacious and at the time I had saw it, it was covered in snow because it was just before Christmas. But, when I gazed at it this time around it was mid-summer. There were seats circling the center of the lot and flowing down into a mud pit. At this point I was immediately reminded of the stadium seating at the Bear Lake lodge my family goes to for reunions every year. On the back of the house was a wooden porch with couches, and places to lounge. All with a perfect view of this Colosseum themed mud pit. Within the pit, the seating reminded me of a baseball stadium. The lined the walls, all the way down to the bottom. The next thing I knew I was front roll next to my friend Jared, surrounded by the football team I was loathed in High School.
Everyone wanted to reminisce of the "glory days" they lived almost 10 years ago. I wanted to punch every single one of them in the jugular. The arrogance the flew. The overwhelming feeling of being demoted back to where I once was, was too great. Right as I was about to open up the mouth I had found a use for since those years, the cheering started. I turned around and there he was.
He was large, young, wearing a navy blue hooded zip up sweater and the water he was treading in came just under his waist line. He was carrying two minions wearing smeared face paint, from what looked like the mud surrounding the wooden pool of water they were being dragged through, under his giant arms. He took two massive steps and raised his shoulders and uncurled his arms, exchanging his grip of the two minions to their upper left and right arms. What happened next surprised me to now end. He raised the two above his head and threw them into the shallow water. Everyone cheered.
The event had just begun.
Just then another 10-15 minions come running into the water and attacking him at his legs. He picked them up and repeated the same throwing motion as he had previously. Over and over, the minions came and he conquered. A spectator thought it would be a good idea to take the man by surprise. Needless to say, he didn't last very long. From the side of me I hear "Isn't he a DJ at some club?" Another voice verifies, "Yeah, I just saw him last weekend." I was literally watching a 300+ pound disc jockey pulverize anyone coming into his wooden pool kingdom.
A mother came climbing up the stadium seating carrying two or three of the minions, weeping. Everyone she passed were giving their apologies and condolences. It was then I had realized that the minions were actually adopted children from Africa. Explaining their mud war paint and lack of fear to charge a man 4 times their size in height and weight.
All I could do at this point was watch as this mother carried her children away from this sport, and off to care for their bruises. I was in complete and total shock.
I observed the crowd for a while longer while spotting people that I once knew, and finding they were living up to everything I thought they were 10 years ago. "What a complete waste of human beings." I kept thinking to myself. I turned and looked my friend dead in the eyes, and he knew without me having to say a word what my thoughts my were and the rage that was building inside of me. I turned to leave and while pushing past my former classmates met the shoulder of the person I had always held the most spite for. We made eye contact for a brief moment and as I was making my way again, he grabbed my arm and spun me around. With all the years passing I could have cared less if this person tried to make amends or tried to attack me, but I was on the ready for a brawl if this went south. To my surprise he looked at me and then down again. I noticed the cloth draped over the small child, much like the rest of the little fighters I had seen being pulled from the blood bath wooden pool. I ripped my arm out of his hand, picked up the child and ran. He never stopped me. He wanted me to remove this poor soul for if he had stayed, he would have been next in line for beating from the Loch Ness monster down below.
I strapped the little boy into my car and left. We drove for hours, never stopping.
We just drove.
Saturday, December 22, 2012
B.I.G and The American Made Beast
Blog Diary 0002
Documented Nicotine Dream 0004
Date: 12/22/2012
Operation: Diminish Black Lung. Attempt #9 Day #13
I was standing on the passenger side of a 2012 Chevrolet Corvette ZR1 (yes, I had to google a picture to make sure that was in fact what I saw) with the truck opened and the Sheriff's department picking up spindles of blank CDs. One particular spindle had wires going into the opaque cover leading to what appeared to be a motherboard found in most laptops. A big rapper looking dude came up and explained this was an amplifier used for the stereo system. I noticed as he was pointing this out that it was none other than Notorious B.I.G.
WHAT THE HELL is going on here?! I thought to myself, but my facial expression never changed once. It was as if I had spent quite a bit of time around this man, that his popularity status did not phase me one bit. Nor was it a shock that this supposed "icon" was and has been dead for many years now (I've concluded after thinking about this all day that Notorious only appeared in my dream because I've been listening to the Best Of The 90's for the past week...seriously, it's brilliant. Minus Madonna and Mariah Carey. Whores. All of 'em). The officers continued to question the spindles of CDs and what we were doing with them in our possession. Apparently, whatever we were doing was questionable to the point that it may or may have been illegal, but I would never confess to doing anything illegal. Even in a vivid nicotine induced dream.
So, the B.I.G explained that we were simply taking them back to his house after purchasing them from a local electronics store that I could not remember for the life of me.
The next thing I knew I was riding shotgun in this beautiful American made machine, but we were driving this beast in a Chevy themed showroom. Full of police officers. We made a left turn down a hallway that was barely big enough for the stallion we were trying to keep tame, when Notorious decides it's a good idea to take a hard right out the front door. Miraculously we survive leaving behind a cloud of dust that would choke out a full grown cow. I didn't say one word the entire time. It was as if I knew that Notorious was just that insane (side note: I have no idea how the hell he even fit in the car. The seats were quite a bit smaller than I've seen in pictures, however why do people dream about Notorious driving a ZR1 through a door?! Baffled, I know).
At that point I woke up in a panic to check what time it was. My phone read 6:42 AM. My stomach dropped and all I could think was OH F***! I'M LATE FOR WORK! HA! Nope! It's Saturday numb-nuts! But, get up anyway cause there's no way you're going back to dreaming at this point you over worked middle-class American.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Deliverance, The Old Timer, and Bat-Shit Blind
Blog Diary 0001
Documented Nicotine Dream 0003
Date: 12/21/2012
Operation: Diminish Black Lung. Attempt #9 Day #12
I was heading home to my parents and I had to follow this trail. It rode along a ridge that had a fairly steep drop, but I knew that if I fell, I would survive. I would have what seemed to be my cell phone but it was some dinky flip phone that I would have used back in 2005, then it would suddenly be gone. I kept calling my father to get help with directions, but I already knew the way.
At one point, on this trail I came across a man. He was sitting on a porch to what I assumed to be his home, that appeared to be as old as the shack my great-grandfather was born in in the early 1900's. It was periwinkle blue, with white hand made columns supporting a nearly caving porch roof. Shingles were missing, and the paint was fading due to his lack of care. I knew in an instant this homeboy was trouble. I politely asked him if he knew the way to where I was going. He pointed and informed me where the trail switched back and that I needed to just push through the brush to find my way. I questioned his directions humbly saying that I had gone that way once before but did not see where it would lead me. He offered to show me the way and I nervously agreed.
We started down the trail and a younger gentleman came out of the woodwork, instantly reminding me of a hillbilly in the film Deliverance. The only thing he was missing was a shotgun beat to hell and a piece of hay sticking out of his mouth. He looked me up and down, then motioned to keep moving. I felt captive at this point. I was constantly looking over my shoulder trying to hear what they were whispering about behind me.
Shortly after, the younger bloke tried to force me to move my right arm above my head and then place my left arm in his hand. With my experience with the law in real life, I instantly pulled a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles move and spun my way around so I was facing him. What I noticed was that as soon as I was facing them their faces instantly showed a surprised looked, and then I noticed the rope they were going to use to tie me up. The rope was knotted between two trees and was fairly tight already, so how the hell they were going to restrain me with this item baffled me. "Stupid hillbillies." I thought to myself.
They became angry and started yelling, at that point I bolted down the trail only to be faced with the switched back the old man told me about earlier. Instead of pushing my way through the brush as the man suggested, I took the switch back and followed the trail to the left and was met with a square wooden door. I glanced up the trail to find that the Deliverance dude and the old timer were galloping down the trail, coming straight for me. I pushed the door open with some struggle, shot myself to the other side, and slammed the door closed again. I turned around and found myself in what looked like a forest. It was almost a replica of the scenery I had just left.
I stepped over old antique Micky Mouse toys that were almost the size of Mini-JAM. They seemed to have been tossed out of somewhere due to the broken pieces scattered in all directions. For whatever reason I took note of the arrangement of them and studied them. The toys and items someone had once loved where now back to their beginning state, before they were molded into little statues.
I came to a small hill and grabbed a tree for support while stepping down, and glanced at the horizon that was now in front of me. I could see my parents town.
I found a small cottage just down the trail. A blind and haggard old maid was in the kitchen listening to the radio with her face basking in the small amount of sunshine coming through her dirty window. I knew she was alone before I even reached the porch. I ran inside to use the telephone. I called my father and told him I was almost there but was confused as to how this trail would take me all the way to their doorstep. He mumbled something and we disconnected. I left as quick as I had entered. The old lady had never moved. Just sitting there, motionless. I wondered if she was even alive, but the worry of her health was not a terrible concern to me at the moment. I had to get home. I was late, but for what?
I started sprinting, running as fast as I could. My heart and breath stayed in a unison that never broke even at full speed ahead.
The last thing I remember was looking at the first paved road in what seemed like weeks, with an open grassy field that had to have been the same size as the orchard I once mowed for an entire summer as a boy. Beyond that I found the foothills where I played as a teenager. Creating mischief with my little band of hooligan friends. Doing what we did best: Hoodrat things. To the left of me in the distance was the community where my family was said to be. Where I knew them to be. I didn't look back from the trail and misery that I just escaped. I just simply took my first step forward and woke up.
I checked my phone to find 6 text messages, 5 instagram post notifications, and a few work emails. It was 1:42 AM. I had been asleep for only a few hours. So I did what anyone would do at that time: checked my instagram, read my text messages, closed out my work emails and then fell back to sleep.
Documented Nicotine Dream 0003
Date: 12/21/2012
Operation: Diminish Black Lung. Attempt #9 Day #12
I was heading home to my parents and I had to follow this trail. It rode along a ridge that had a fairly steep drop, but I knew that if I fell, I would survive. I would have what seemed to be my cell phone but it was some dinky flip phone that I would have used back in 2005, then it would suddenly be gone. I kept calling my father to get help with directions, but I already knew the way.
At one point, on this trail I came across a man. He was sitting on a porch to what I assumed to be his home, that appeared to be as old as the shack my great-grandfather was born in in the early 1900's. It was periwinkle blue, with white hand made columns supporting a nearly caving porch roof. Shingles were missing, and the paint was fading due to his lack of care. I knew in an instant this homeboy was trouble. I politely asked him if he knew the way to where I was going. He pointed and informed me where the trail switched back and that I needed to just push through the brush to find my way. I questioned his directions humbly saying that I had gone that way once before but did not see where it would lead me. He offered to show me the way and I nervously agreed.
We started down the trail and a younger gentleman came out of the woodwork, instantly reminding me of a hillbilly in the film Deliverance. The only thing he was missing was a shotgun beat to hell and a piece of hay sticking out of his mouth. He looked me up and down, then motioned to keep moving. I felt captive at this point. I was constantly looking over my shoulder trying to hear what they were whispering about behind me.
Shortly after, the younger bloke tried to force me to move my right arm above my head and then place my left arm in his hand. With my experience with the law in real life, I instantly pulled a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles move and spun my way around so I was facing him. What I noticed was that as soon as I was facing them their faces instantly showed a surprised looked, and then I noticed the rope they were going to use to tie me up. The rope was knotted between two trees and was fairly tight already, so how the hell they were going to restrain me with this item baffled me. "Stupid hillbillies." I thought to myself.
They became angry and started yelling, at that point I bolted down the trail only to be faced with the switched back the old man told me about earlier. Instead of pushing my way through the brush as the man suggested, I took the switch back and followed the trail to the left and was met with a square wooden door. I glanced up the trail to find that the Deliverance dude and the old timer were galloping down the trail, coming straight for me. I pushed the door open with some struggle, shot myself to the other side, and slammed the door closed again. I turned around and found myself in what looked like a forest. It was almost a replica of the scenery I had just left.
I stepped over old antique Micky Mouse toys that were almost the size of Mini-JAM. They seemed to have been tossed out of somewhere due to the broken pieces scattered in all directions. For whatever reason I took note of the arrangement of them and studied them. The toys and items someone had once loved where now back to their beginning state, before they were molded into little statues.
I came to a small hill and grabbed a tree for support while stepping down, and glanced at the horizon that was now in front of me. I could see my parents town.
I found a small cottage just down the trail. A blind and haggard old maid was in the kitchen listening to the radio with her face basking in the small amount of sunshine coming through her dirty window. I knew she was alone before I even reached the porch. I ran inside to use the telephone. I called my father and told him I was almost there but was confused as to how this trail would take me all the way to their doorstep. He mumbled something and we disconnected. I left as quick as I had entered. The old lady had never moved. Just sitting there, motionless. I wondered if she was even alive, but the worry of her health was not a terrible concern to me at the moment. I had to get home. I was late, but for what?
I started sprinting, running as fast as I could. My heart and breath stayed in a unison that never broke even at full speed ahead.
The last thing I remember was looking at the first paved road in what seemed like weeks, with an open grassy field that had to have been the same size as the orchard I once mowed for an entire summer as a boy. Beyond that I found the foothills where I played as a teenager. Creating mischief with my little band of hooligan friends. Doing what we did best: Hoodrat things. To the left of me in the distance was the community where my family was said to be. Where I knew them to be. I didn't look back from the trail and misery that I just escaped. I just simply took my first step forward and woke up.
I checked my phone to find 6 text messages, 5 instagram post notifications, and a few work emails. It was 1:42 AM. I had been asleep for only a few hours. So I did what anyone would do at that time: checked my instagram, read my text messages, closed out my work emails and then fell back to sleep.
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