Two dreams

two nights ago, i was at a lake, watching a plane do what appeared to be acrobatics. the plane was flying toward a nearby hangar that was the plane’s “home,” but it wasn’t supposed to fly in there, yet. “what is the plane doing?” cried people around me. then, it became clear that the plane was spinning out of control in wide, slow motion 360 degree swoops. at one point, i caught sight of the people inside the plane, recognizing the old mce gm, s. her hands were up in the air, and she looked to me, pleading. the inside of the plane was clearly in a state of chaos and panic–nobody was tucked with head down to await the certain death. the plane spun in increasingly smaller circles toward a nearby inlet of the lake, and i realized that i didn’t want to go down there to try to help survivors. in the dream, it was clear to me that my reluctance wasn’t due to aversion to seeing gory plane crash victims, or even for my safety as the plane might explode–no, i simply didn’t want to face whatever awkwardness and embarrassment might ensue from not having ever dealt with such a situation before. so, i opted to run back toward the street, where an ambulance was already on the way. i pretended i was being ever-so-helpful by alerting the driver to the exact location of where the plane went down. needless to say, i awoke disgusted with myself.

just now, i had this dream where i was on some kind of dude ranch, and there had been a rash of killings, cattle rustling or some other crime involving unwanted human invaders to the dude ranch. we were camping out that night, and they’d spied a trespasser down the hill. the head of the ranch handed me a pistol, and said, “okay, now’s your time to learn to shoot.” it was an opportunity to legally take target practice on another human being. at first, i feared for the group’s safety, and felt justified in blasting away. then, i realized i was shooting at d, and she was throwing up her hands in surrender, and pleading for her life. i continued to blast away, now deriving satisfaction at the opportunity to wound her but good (perhaps even more sickeningly, in the dream i clearly didn’t want to kill her, just do some type of lifelong damage). i awoke sick to my stomach.

in both instances, i fell asleep fancying myself someone who could hopefully become more of a helper and even healer of others, instead, falling into dreams where i behaved cowardly and cruelly toward others who’d somehow wronged me in the past.

the night before the shrink it is

the night before the shrink it is. first visit to a shrink in twelve years or more. d, were she still of a mind to care about me, would be delighted. it’s not that auspicious, actually. more of a last-ditch effort.

there’s a lot that could be said, as i look back three or twelve years ago on my writing, to see the same awkward misfit struggling with social integration, and then giving up and deciding he’s something too special for groups of people.

as always, there is something better right around the corner, waiting for the loner, the different man, the individual too unique to be much in love or have that many friends.

but, when half your family’s wiped out, all your friends are gone or far away, and an entire year passes where every promising opportunity at a friendship or love is smashed to bits–you have to come to the conclusion that you need help. yes, you failed.

there can be no pretending anymore. no pretending that some girl who “gets me” will come along.

and, it doesn’t matter whether i’m supposed to become a wandering mystic healer, a churchgoing family man, or something else–all possible paths of growth have now been clearly stunted because i can’t communicate properly, and connect with others.

i don’t expect i’ll ever have a huge number of friends/lovers. but, i can’t believe that God intended for me to scare off so many of the people that i did.

and, do i really want another churchgoing experience that’s similar to every other attempt at integrating with a group? soon, i’ll be put off from ever attempting to be a part of anything social at all, and find myself sinking in an endless black quagmire.

this is the last ditch effort before such a horror consumes me.

death, of course. how it happens to everyone

death, of course. how it happens to everyone. how everyone seems to think so little of it, until they are faced with the utter certainty of it, either for them or a loved one. how you could die and discover that God was displeased with everything you did. how you could die and just be dead, as the atheists would like to believe.

how atheists seem to spring up inside a bubble that is mostly free of death, like the times we live in.

how some days, it’s easy to forget about God and be an honorary atheist yourself, until you remember that you will die someday.

how movies make you feel invincible, because you put yourself inside the shoes of the action hero, naturally, and he doesn’t die after defying death a hundred times.

how quickly people forget about their loved ones that died before them, and how quickly other people forget that you were grieving a month ago.

it’s like we’re programmed to fool ourselves into thinking we’re immortal, and avoid members of the species who would fail to help us fool ourselves.

it goes beyond mates choosing each other out of some genetic programming for reproductive fitness. it gets into man-made programming to make the population perpetuate its slavery. i mean, would you spend your time the way you do if you knew you’d be dead tomorrow?

what would our world look like, if each individual fully realized and constantly kept conscious the fact that he or she could die at any time, and that all legacies left behind return to blackness within a few generations?

then, the usual time travel ideas. imagining being able to travel along a corridor of time that is essentially my lifeline, whatever i choose to do with it. i can go back and forth like slaughterhouse five within my own self, alter history as much as i’m capable of by myself, and when i travel back to the age i was when i left, my world may be changed, but i am still allowed to be me. (as opposed to, say, traveling back in time, altering a timeline to the point that it deviates, and the “me” that traveled is now a nobody, a lost soul no longer connected to the self from which he came.)

is it irony to be denied all the things you really want

is it irony to be denied all the things you really want, or are you wanting all the wrong things?

words aren’t going to reach this pain.


i can’t say as that i’m especially proud of this past year. yeah, it’s that time again–heavy life review, what i did wrong this year, what i did right.

i did little right.

i got by.

i almost got out of debt, then plunged deeply into it again with a mess of car repairs.

i dated no one. no sex, no love, no joy.

2009 was a cold, crisp year, punctuated by a summer of dry, empty fire.

i said i was going to become some type of healer, maybe an emt. i failed.

i met no one who i could call my friend, beyond the usual, artificial facebook friend.

b came and went, once she got to know me.

i believe b2 said her last goodbye to me sometime early this year.

all the mce crew and uw people drifted farther out of reach from me.

there was this lady a, but it was always kind of clear that she was just available when she needed me to do a favor for her on the uw website.

i’m seeing a shrink in three days. last ditch effort.

soon a church.

but what of 2009 that was worth mention?

finished novel on 10 yr life in austin
aced both a&p and medical terminology

roommate finally moved out
boss was laid off and uw fucked itself and me in more ways than i can count.
news of mce people getting what was coming to them, and mce fucking itself, too.

maybe 09 was just a more crystal realization of the hole i’ve always been in.


you’re either at the maximum peak or final trough when you find yourself here.
you’ll be rummaging through books on design, architecture, poetry and science.
you’ll want to stop at whole foods or central market for booze and appetizers.
you’ll be living in a state of carnal violence or a world of hermetic silence.
you are cresting on the high of having a girlfriend that validates your weird.
you are muddling through the bracken ooze of only knowing four-legged friends.
you will be carrying the books home to bury them in overdue fees. the computer
is the mistress you’re most faithful to, even as she blunts your unused senses
in more a/v crack that makes you sleep after several swallows of wine or beer.
you’re either at the maximum peak or final trough when you find yourself here.
you will see yourself the next day, singing in a church, with other penitents.
(you’ll actually still be in bed with hangover head, admiring tv churchgoers.)
you will however, pray to wake for another day to play the game of recompense.
your prayers are answered by that Master who will let you live out your fears;
to help you craft a plan for becoming a man who’ll get to see how it all ends.
the only question is whether you’ll be lying in a pool of blood, or a shooter,
giving his best for the glory of God and country in a mess of shallow defenses
while working a bottle or a book, scanning a mirror, wishing you weren’t here.

as i spend more time relishing all hours spent away from the workday

as i spend more time relishing all hours spent away from the workday, i begin to awake with more and more yearning for the faces half-remembered from my dreams. dreams start to take on more importance, as does sleep itself, because i awake feeling aligned again, and the faces met in dreams are the friends and lovers i’ve always craved but rarely had. at first, most dreams are easily forgotten, but the longer the deep winter freeze in the waking world abides, the more i sleep, and the more my consciousness asserts itself into dreamland, bringing back small treasures from beyond that veil.

this morning, i awoke with the certain realization that i’d met the love of my life in this dream i was having–her very spirit matched the ideal soul mate, even as she morphed through three different people.

at the beginning of the dream, i arrived at g’s old place of work with her in an old chevy impala. at this point, we were together, but when she went inside, i became sneaky and wasn’t supposed to be reading her mail. her current (and in the dream i suppose “future”) husband had sent an email to everyone letting them know he was starting a design shop, and a URL pointed you to information about the business. i grabbed the URL electronically, but then suddenly was able to physically hold it in my hand somehow (w/o printing it out).

g had returned to her desk, and i decided that she was like some kind of wild animal, that if I held really still, she wouldn’t see me. at first, she didn’t, weirdly unable to make out the frozen person standing right in front of her, until finally, as her attention turned from her desk, i bolted for the door, and at this point in the dream split off into two different people.

the “bad me” drove off in the impala, even as she was chasing it with the “good me.” however, at first, these two selves were not so clearly defined, as i ran up along the car being driven by the bad me to give him advice on how to get away faster, and my consciousness bounced back and forth between them.

but, by the time the car got away out of sight (and after g had found a gun in the mud and shot at the car a few times), i was clearly the good guy, helping her chase down the thief, and g had turned into c, a neighbor/co-worker who a couple years ago had been mildly flirty with me, but was one of those classic “scared her for no apparent reason” ladies.

we were getting married, and i was her fiance, and i had no idea why it was wildly important for her to chase down the car and the thief herself, rather than letting the police do it. this was never made clear in the dream. her father and stepfather were sleeping back at her place, though we lifted the covers to make sure the thief wasn’t stupid enough to have returned.

one of the men was “up from san antonio, having driven 55 mph the whole way because it was dark and i don’t like to drive any faster than that.” i considered replying to the statement by bragging how fast i typically drove in the dark, but then decided it would just be seen as bragging, and impress no one.

we then heard on a police scanner that happened to be in the room, that the thief was spotted at some address, which one of the men (father or stepfather, who knows?) determined was in “hoboken, new jersey.”

parts of this dream were inspired by recently watching the movie “falling down” again for the first time in a long time, and parts were inspired by recently looking at a map of locations that were near where my brother r lives.

c had become some unknown lady, who i determined was completely and utterly the love of my life. i awoke with a yearning to be close to that spirit, wherever it might actually be in real life.

an instant waking impression i had was how in the dream, as was often the case in real life, i wanted to have things all ways. i wanted to be the victimized current boyfriend who was about to be dumped for the newer, better guy. i wanted to be the rebel that tries to save the relationship by sneaking around behind her back and doing damage of some kind to the new guy. i wanted to be the hero that rushes in and rescues her from her loser, soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. i wanted to be the solid, dependable man who can talk easily with the future male in-laws. i wanted to be the soul mate.

in short, i wanted to be all the different things a boyfriend could be in a relationship (with the same woman), never realizing how utterly schizophrenic and futile such a quest was.

you stand inside a body that fools you

you stand inside a body that fools you into thinking you could be bigger than you are. from a distance, in front of the right mirror, under the right light, you are fooled again into thinking you could market yourself based on looks alone–with a smile, and a squint, of course. the kingdom of heaven, however, is deep inside you.

heaven is also up above you, but any attempts to ascend there before your time will be met with a soul’s condition that could be likened to being drawn and quartered.

deep inside you, God packed a lot of information, and there now Jesus dwells. for, you could envision Jesus in your heart, as if he’s lurking about in the left atrium, or think of “heart” as being the “heart of your soul,” the root, the source. and, if Jesus now lives at the fountainhead from which all of YOU springs, then you become a completely different sort of thing.

which is why they reject you with their eyes when they see you coming, why their conversation drops, why you aren’t invited to become a friend of theirs like you once were with various random collections of cool kids.

the kid with Jesus deep in his heart is not the cool kid on the block, anymore.

if you’d been really sincere in your pursuits of easter religions and purely scientific approaches to viewing reality, it may have been okay. but, we all know that you were simply pursuing such foreign bodies of thought to run away from your destiny.

how many times have you checked the news in the past six years, thinking that you’d seize upon something this time that would carry you toward your true state of being, knowing all the while at a deeper level you were actually running.

you pleaded with eyes of the women you met, “save me, make me who i truly am.” and, most of them (fortunately for you) were scared away by this mad manchild reeking of issues far beyond the scope of anything they’d been trained to deal with in a man.

does everyone seek a savior somewhere, some time? or, as society grows farther away from God, is the notion of needing a savior now non-existent in the lives and minds of so many you try to connect with?

sorry, dear Lord, but i had to do it

sorry, dear Lord, but i had to do it. i can’t go on like this, you know. i don’t think i can stand to experience another merrily blooming friendship turn into dust for no apparent reason whatsoever.

i’m getting really scared, now.

i called the shrink today when i got home. i’d picked out five or six in my zip code on my insurance plan who said they specialized with anxiety disorders. i don’t even know if that’s what i have or not.

i made an appointment with the second one on the list, because she picked up the phone.

i’m sick of not connecting with anyone. it’s easy when nothing materializes in the first place. but when you look into her eyes and she smiles, and she starts to talk to you like you’re a human, and you hang together a few times, and share things other than work stuff, and then you see her again, and she smiles, and you invite her to do something with you, and again, and again, and then the replies to work-related emails become purely business-related.

it’s all those times you connect past just some flirty eyes and smiles and idle chitchat, but then somewhere along the way, within the process of the budding friendship that could be turning into something more, she turns off her light, grows cold, and becomes just another coworker, neighbor, random breathing human entity.

sometimes, you get paranoid. you start to think that maybe your ex is finding all your friends on facebook and sending them messages full of lies and half-truths about you. you wonder if the apt complex has hidden cameras in the place, or if perhaps you’re occasionally possessed with some weird spasm of nastiness you aren’t even aware of. you look for evidence to prove your paranoia, and then soundly defeat it with evidence to the contrary.

you do know that something is wrong.

people around you make friends with each other, do not part from their conversations with odd silences and weird, uncomfortable looks. people around you are happy to see each other, sound excited when a coworker stops by their desks to say hello. you’ve worked really hard to never disturb these people, even when they’re in the middle of randomly browsing friends’ facebook pages, and doing tedious data entry work. you’ve been snapped at too many times at this place by folks who think they’re way more important than they really are–that their time is the most precious commodity in the world–emphasis on THEIR time, not anyone else’s, nor time itself.

the more you struggle to find your way out of this hole, the deeper you seem to crawl into it.

today you were proven for sure that there are no potential friendships to be had at this place.

the only good thing about today is that you ran five six minute miles. they felt easy, natural, and not the least bit labored until the end, when you kicked into gear. your legs seemed to glide along a thin stream of air above the trail, your strides were long and carried you twice as far as the joggers you passed.

truth is, just about everything you do away from that place feels good. you made stuff out of glass on sat. you watched clint eastwood movies. you drank beer. you recovered from drinking beer. you bowled with j, his brother and cousin. you walked the dog a lot. you drove in the slimy soup of austin winter weather. you lifted a few weights, did thirty pushups in a row. you read about cults and megarich televangelists, you listened to the sounds of white noise. you sat and wrote, and tried to think about something other than your social retardation. you m’ed until you were unable to see the value in it anymore. you prayed to Jesus.

in some weird alternate reality twist of things, a just did a 180, and stopped with all the being extra nice, stopped being what my poor sad deluded self thought was perhaps a friend to me. lp suddenly became extra nice to me, and is now acting like she wants to hand back to me ownership of the last remaining things at that place i gave a shit about. of course, l probably sat and had a talk with someone there, and i hardly trust her at all. but, geez, i thought a and i were at least cool enough that she wouldn’t pull the old “lights out” on me like everyone else does.

m politely obliged me for a little conversation, but it’s clear again she has no interest to ever hang with me outside of work.

i feel stupid for extending my hope that anyone there could ever be a friend beyond just a friendly coworker.

i feel stupid for thinking that someone there saw me as more than just some kind of savant rain man web guy–oh, that’s e, he’s great for a laugh, but he’s really just good at one thing–updating our website, pdfs and powerpoints. beyond that, he’s a barely functioning human being.

i had to call the shrink today, or i really do think i’d end up as some kind of deeply withdrawn hermit character. it’s a last-ditch effort.