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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