Dream Sequence #10

In my dream,
I was in a tent with some other people.
I do not remember how I arrived inside this tent but there I was (I think I might have been four wheeling or something).
The tent was one of those military green tents, the kind with two flaps on either end, and supported by two bars immediately noticed, in the direct middle, once the tent flap is pulled back.
Now that I think about it, it might have just been me in this tent and made up having people there.
I remember feeling a sense of panic as the idea of a bear outside the door came in to my head.
I opened the flap to see an enormous grizzly bear about 15 feet from the open tent flap.
I was afraid that it was coming to eat me, but afraid in such a way that I knew it wasn't real.
It felt like one of those moments where you know that nothing bad will ever happen to you but always someone else.
Next thing I know, I am in a different location.
There is a house and part of that house is a covering (picture what you might find at a local public park where there are benches below the structure and usually a bbq pit somewhere close by) jutting off of one side.
I feel like this was a camp I'd stayed at before as a scout but not literally that exact camp.
I remember someone panicking and mentioning a tiger loose somewhere on the premises.
Instantly I knew what I needed to do to keep people safe.
I would take the pool ball (the billiards kind...not the water kind) and bash the tiger over the head.
I remember planning the attack in my head and as I moved towards the area where I knew the tiger would be, looking down at stripped ball (I'm almost never solids) in hand and thinking that it could not possible go well for me.
I remember moving to hit the tiger on the head but having it overpower me with its strength.
I desperately tried to climb onto the roof of the building and can still visualize my grasp on the gutter and how it failed when I tried pulling up on it.
The tiger is below me and my vision jumps to that of a small cat flailing its arms at a piece of string.
Except that this is a tiger and I am that string.
The tiger morphs into me and what happens from there is a little difficult to describe.
I become the tiger but my body that's still trying to scramble onto the roof is also me.
As the tiger, I am describing to an audience what meat tastes best from a human.
I start explaining the less tender bits (the calves, followed by biceps) and conclude the anatomy lesson with the tasty bit—the buttocks.
I make certain to emphasize that this is the area that tastes the best.
What happens after that is really bizarre to me still.
So the me that's hanging from the rafter is all torn open like you might imagine a cadaver would look.
There isn't any blood, and all the veins are perfectly intact and the muscles are where they should be, but there isn't any skin.
My legs are spread wide open and I remember feeling both the tiger and victim at the same time, as the tiger talks about how the subject had three testicles.
As the person, I remember feeling alienated that my three testicles were on display, but looking at them without any skin on them, and my legs spread far apart, was unique.
I wasn't distressed or in any pain.
It felt like how I would imagine someone in trauma might feel; overrun with endorphins and able to step back from everything and feeling almost blissful.
The end.

My new favorite person

"Why do you have to be such a suck fuck all the time?"
This is one of the first things I heard out of the mouth of a very tall man, leaning against his work van, smoking his cigarette, and harassing another coworker who was just dropped off.


Let me explain. So I recently landed a new job; a blue-collar job installing various "weatherization" elements to homes. It's unlike any other job I've ever had, in that everyday I am privileged with hearing this man say some of the most eloquent insults I've ever heard. As a college graduate (with a degree in English, and dreams of landing one of those AMAZING jobs that don't exist) I've never had direct contact with the type of men who work as roofers. It takes a special breed of person to roof homes, especially up here in the PNW. The homes battle constantly against mold and it's not all that uncommon to drive around and see shingles with a sheen of green (that often becomes quite slippery when wet).

I'm getting off topic now. So back to the "suck fuck" man. I've been at this job for exactly three days now and have debated starting a Twitter account just to post the things he says. A group of five of us (I use that term loosely as I was not really in any circle with them, but standing back a bit and peering in at their tight-nit circle) were outside in the cold morning. One of the roofers turns to this tall man and asks him when the last time he Googled himself was. The tall man said, "I ainght never fuckin Googled myself. Why the fuck would I fuckin Google myself? What the fuck does that shit even fuckin mean?" The first guy explains that he was looking over the local jail's roster online the previous night and found someone he knew. The tall man knew this person as well, and the both of them shared that "hahaha it's about time that crazy motherfucker wound up in jail" laugh. So the first guy says to the tall man that after he found that online roster, he Googled his own name and a very long list of all the crimes he had committed popped up. "No fuckin shit?! Just like that huh? For the whole motherfuckin world to see? Your shit is just out there? Ainght that some fuckin shit! I don't believe yo dick ass though." So the first guy eggs him on. He tells the tall man to Google his name. The tall man pulls out his phone and falls silent for about 30 seconds. He randomly explodes with, "No way! How the fuck do they know that?! What! No man! I ainght told no fuckin one about that shit!"

Meanwhile, I am just standing there looking in a different direction now, and simply listening to him talk. I love it! Never before have I encountered such a person. Nearly everything he explains has the word fuck somehow attached to it. In no way am I saying that I am naive and never heard someone say "fuck" before. What I'm saying is that I've never heard someone use it quite like this tall man. He doesn't know it, but he's my new favorite person to listen talk.

So far in the three days I've been with this company, I've heard him say the following:
- The word "ass dick"
- "That shit was on there tighter than a pair of fuck nuts."
-"With your no work fuckin ass"

I should explain that I don't work with this tall man. I only see him for about five minutes a day while he waits for the rest of his crew to show up. After that, the crew I am on and his crew go separate ways. I can tell he is the type of guy that everyone listens to on his crew. I don't think he is in charge, but the way he carries himself tells everyone that he is that "alpha" type. He seems like a jovial person. That last three days I've seen him, he has always come into the shop with such energy. Always giving people shit and then laughing about it all. I get the feeling though that if someone crossed him, he'd morph into a monster. He's quite stout and reminds me of a guy I used to work with when I was a teenager that liked to shake my hand, only to trap me with his bear-like strength. He'd squeeze my hand so hard that I often fell to my knees and begged for mercy. I HAD TO! It hurt so damn bad. Every time he'd do it too, I'd look up and see his face to check for any sign of strain. Not once did it change from his normally expressionless face. I use the image of his face sometimes when facing pain. I think to myself that John never showed pain. Man did he love to laugh though!

Today in History

So the title of this entry reminds me of when people post topics of antiquity that happened on the exact day some time ago. This is not one of those times. It is however something similar in that today in history, I picked up a book and read words from it. Those words enlightened me on two practices of execution for acts of treason that were enacted into law to illustrate to people what gruesome things would happen to your body if you committed such a crime worthy of torture.

The first one is terrible. Well I guess that they are all truly terrible, but this first one must have really got your blood boiling.

Okay so Henry the VIII (that's too many damn roman numeral letters to enumerate if you ask me) put into law in 1531 the legal practice of boiling a subject to death. This immediately made me think of that analogy used about a frog in hot water (it's too dumb to jump out of the water if you place it in cold water and slowly heat it up until the water is boiling). Well that's exactly what Henry did to people. He put them in a pot placed above some logs, and made a fire. Ironically, the first person to ever be executed using this technique was a chef by the name of Richard Roose. He was the chef of some bishop and convicted of trying to poison said bishop with a meat sauce containing hemlock and the "deadly nightshade". Now I haven't done any research on how and why this "nightshade" is deadly but what I do know is that tomatoes are part of the nightshade family. I'm thinking it was more than a tomato though that earned the quotes around "deadly".

So the chef, and anyone else who was committed to this type of torture, sat in the water for a grueling two plus hours while it heated enough to be lethal. As someone who takes "cool" tempered showers, the thought of sitting in a pot suspended above an open flame for two damn long hours hits a nerve of disgust. HA HA, you liked that slip of personal connection there didn't you? I sure did.

People would gather 'round these events to watch the person in the pot grow steadily more uncomfortable. I wonder if the victim was forced to sit with the water up to his/her neck. The book doesn't elaborate on that part, but I'd imagine that if it was a short pot and the individual was only in water up to their chest, that eventually they might see bits of flesh boil up around them before the pain was intolerable and sent the body into shock.

Don't worry though, this was only in law until Henry the VI outlawed it in 1547. For those keeping track, yes that is the older Henry outlawing it after the younger Henry passed away. Why so many Henries? Ah never mind, no one really cares why.

Okay so I know I made it sound like there would be more examples. Quite frankly I just don't want to type any longer, so I am going to stop....right....now.

Dream Sequence #9

In my dream,
I was in a room with an old friend from high school.
I was asleep in this bed dreaming up a dream. (So it was me in real life, having a dream about me as a younger person, having a dream about something abstract, and then reflecting on it as the me in real life now as a much older person).
Confusing to follow I know but an important element of what makes my dreams feel so real to me.
Anyways, I was lying on my bed and listening to this friend speak about a trip he recently took.
He went on to describe how he was in Alaska and would point off in the distance to a slope and explain that he would pick a spot on the hill of snow and slide as far as he could.
It was more scientific than joyful when he spoke about it.
His tone was very matter-of-fact.
This part is difficult to describe as none of it makes sense in the real world.
He would point to the hill and I could see a line drawn in the snow.
Below that line there was a pool of water and he would describe trying to slide down the hill as fast as possible to get as far down into the pool of water as he could.
He was a seal when he slide down the hill.
The pool of water was sliced in half and I could see the top of the pool and the clear water below it while he slide down under it.
They way it was sliced reminds me of how the diagram of a car motor would be cut in half to show the inside mechanics to illustrate what happens when the car is on.
Or maybe a better example is one of those brain molds cut down the middle to show the two hemispheres and where the different parts of the brain are located.
Does that make sense? I hope it does.
Back in the room he crawled under the covers that I was under now and placed his head on the pillow next to me.
I remember feeling really weird that he had done that.
It was because in real life he was more like a friend of a friend.
The next thing I know, I am alone and looking at my teeth.
My front two teeth had chips in them and one had such a large chip, that red flesh material hung from my gums and maintained the shape of the tooth.
It was as if the fleshy innards were really inside the tooth the whole time and now that the tooth was chipped, the fleshy bit was hanging unprotected.
I remember brushing my tongue over it and feeling a weird sensation that reminds me of when you lost a tooth as a child and exploring the new gap of warm fleshy gum.
My mouth tasted like pennies.
I was paranoid that no one would like me because of these enormous chips in my teeth and in the dream I remember thinking that I was an adult reflecting back on my time as a child.
Basically the tooth experience was me (in real life) thinking about how my tooth really is chipped and day dreaming about what it would be like if it was more chipped, but of course I was asleep (in real life).
This is a common element in my dreams.
A dream within a dream.
Next thing I know I am walking down the street with another friend of mine.
This time it is with a friend I grew up with and knew quite well.
We were carrying a log for some reason.
The both of us were barefoot and it didn't matter.
I remember walking over glass at that moment of noticing my bare feet as if my dream was teaching me a lesson to wear shoes.
At that instant of walking over glass my mother called me.
The way in which I spoke with her is bizarre.
It wasn't on a cell phone, but on a projection of her face on the inside of my eye ball like a projection screen.
She called me and I had no ability to not pick up the call.
She asked me if I had heard about Jimmy (another high school friend).
I told her that I had no idea what she was talking about and she told me that she heard about his story on the news.
He died in the line of duty and I remember feeling extremely sad at the news.
I reflected back on the time we drove in his Ford Escort and then thought about him in a military uniform over in the Middle East.
Back to carrying the log and the street turned into a sandy path between some homes.
On the other side of the homes I could hear the crashing waves of the ocean and next thing I know, my friend and I are on the sand and watching the waves.
I should inform you that this friend who is carrying the log with me is the same friend that surfed with me when I was younger in real life so in the dream it felt natural that he was on the sand with me and assessing the size of the waves.
The end.

The time I saw a dead body in the park

The other day a friend of mine called me while she was out running. I said hi and she said hi. I asked her how it was that she was running and talking to me on the phone at the same time. She said it wasn't a big deal. Then I asked her where she was running. She named a park that's around the corner from my house. I tell her, oh by the way, that's the park I found a dead body at a few months back. She tells me to not joke around about it. I tell her I am serious and that I truly did stumble upon a dead body there in that exact park she is running at. We banter back and forth about the details. While I was defending my sighting of a dead man to her -I don't blame her for not wanting to believe it- I was trying to recall his name. It still escapes me.

I'm stalling...I know. I've held on to this story because I wasn't sure how to approach it. I come up with ideas all the time for stories that are far worse off than this. This was real though. This was in front of me. I don't want this to be read as me trying to solicit my blog by taking on a topic that appeals to the dark part of people's minds. It's a literal thing. This happened to me and I want to share it. I want to grow and learn from it.

I remember calling my father and telling him that I had just crossed off seeing a dead body in person (outside any medical setting). He responded as he did (as any real person might do...with more silence than answers). I told him that Jessie and I had walked through the park earlier that evening on a walk with Lucas -my dog- and seen this man lying in the corner of the park. It was a sunny day so I paid very little attention to a sun bather. Anyways, it was about 45 minutes later and we returned to the park on the way back to my house when we came down the steps and stumbled upon the man still lying in the exact same position and spot. He was motionless. Jessie and I stood there for a number of seconds watching for his chest to move; that eerie feeling of what it all possibly meant creeping into my thoughts. When the realization that no matter how hard I stared, his chest wasn't moving, my mind went reeling for answers. Well what does this mean? What do I do? Who is he? Is he dead? How long has he been dead? WHY THE HELL IS HE DEAD IN THIS PARK RIGHT NOW?! The tingles in my hands became intense.

I can remember standing there with my dog and watching Jessie walk over to the body. She is in the nursing profession so this was nothing to her. For me, I kept thinking about this man springing to life. Maybe it was my mind coping in some weird way by telling me that life was still there. Right? At any second he would roll over and walk it off and I could go home and have a weird story to tell. Not a story like this one. Anyhow, she bent over him and checked for a pulse in his neck. She didn't have to say that it wasn't there. His legs were bent in unnatural ways, so there was that. His sweat pants were soiled. His skin was blue. His stomach was quite bloated.

The body had baked all day in the warm sunshine not more than 50 feet from the children's playground where kids were still hooting and hollering as children do.

I called 911 and as the parents of the children playing on the swings saw me on the phone and immediately heard the sirens coming, they all stood still and watched. I'll never forget looking up and seeing every adult face in the park looking directly at me. I could see what they were thinking. One mother gathered her kids and walked off. I don't blame her.

The police officer told me the man was homeless and had no family. He had been admitted to the hospital the night before for detox. Upon release, it was assumed that he went and purchased more alcohol and consumed it (he did have a can of Steel Reserve next to him). He came to the park to sleep it off and just never woke up. So now I can say that I've seen a dead body when I was least expecting it. In person.

Ramblings and then a poem

I haven't been writing much in the last two or so weeks and I don't want to fall out of things, so I am sitting here now with no idea what will come out. I have not lost any part of me, but fallen into a terrible habit of distracting myself with meaningless goals: vacuum the floor and then go write. Well I still don't feel like writing so maybe let's go to the store and buy Cedar chips and make the house smell better. Lucas looks like he needs to wrestle. 20 pushups and then write. Well first let me check Reddit and see if I can't find something to inspire me. Okay now it's 5:30 and Jessie wants to go to dinner and I do as well, so writing can wait. Maybe along the way I will find something to think about. Now it's 11:00 and miserable with guilt. I need to write. Why did I wait for freaking long? It's a purge that needs to take place, that if left unchecked, begins to overflow into other parts of life where it does not belong (that sense of confusion/irritability in a situation that at any other point, would be another moment passing unnoticed). It's maintenance; similar to pruning a tree so that when it comes time for fruit, the branches will be strong enough to support the extra weight of apples. I'm beginning to ramble now when I mean to talk directly about interconnectedness. It's all about checks and balances. I can't continue to put off writing out words because the pile will grow too large and my broom too small.If I don't write, and I sit here all day thinking about how I should give up looking for a writing job and go get a job digging ditches. At least then I would come home exhausted and have a real reason to not write.

I've been thinking -rather extensively- lately about managing every aspect of life. How miserable of a task that is to give yourself. Here man, let's think about the endless possibilities of the smallest happening in my daily routine. You enjoy that kind of stuff, right? This is my mind asking me what I enjoy. I know what you're thinking...this man is rambling and crazy with incomplete sentences and thoughts. Just what is he talking about? If you're reading these words, good for you. I just needed to get out my walking legs and put these fingers on the keyboard and write.

In the incomplete light I see the dance outside.
You're waving me on with those golden-orange
fans I call your hands. It's a dream I think,
but the wind feels nice on my face.
You're so adorable in this light but I cannot find the words in my mouth
so I smile.
There is a man sweeping the sidewalk
and I cannot help but think how miserable clean lines are.
"I'm afraid of sharp edges," I say to you, still watching him sweep.
"Step into my warmth," you say.
"So long as you don't tell me how," I reply.

What I would name my sail boat

 So I got to thinking the other day about if I ever owned a sail boat, what I would name it. I know there is a sacred ritual around naming a boat, and it needs to be taken seriously, but I decided to come up with some names I thought might better announce to the oceanic world, how seriously I took the boat naming process. Below is just a small sampling of names that I came up with. Have any ideas of your own? Let me know in a comment.


Sail Boats:
-Beluga Horn
-Anchor Slap
-Ocean Schwack
-Old Growth
-Captain Captain
-Vintage Sheet
-Mast Flute
-Oceanic Zamboni
-Magnificent Sycamore
-Starboard Port
-Crooked Stern
-Female Name
-Marital Woe
-The Undulator
-Water Bed
-Swollen Harpoon
-Please Bow
-No Moor


Dinghy:
-Ostentatious Oarfish
-Tom Foolery
-Iron Wedge
-Brackish Port
-Explosive Stint
-Backwards Swordfish
-Jelly Jellyfish
-Octopus Booty
-Dwarven Delight
-Skip's Skittle