Dream a fuckin weird as dream…

1544963671603

Yesterday was quite a blast. Before I get into this next blog, I gotta give you a bit of a rundown:

It was raining, cold, cloudy, muggy morning that was full of the fig. I showed up my usual work terminal in Lithia Springs, but no one was in the office. So, I drive to the Fulton terminal a few minutes from ours.

The minute I arrived I walked to the driver’s lounge. A cup of detox tea will get your stomach boiling.

I saw the other two hikers sitting and watching TV. I didn’t think nothing much of them.

One of them said good morning; I said nothing because I wanted to christen my morning at the porcelain thrown with the gold elixir spritzing from my urethra.

As I walked in, I tossed my finished cup of tea into the trash. Oops, missed the barrel. As I turned around to pick up the cup I missed when I tossed toward the trash barrel, One of the guys yelled at me “Punk” and this guy jumps up -as i pick up the cup from the floor to toss it in the barrel, properly- gets in face to try an attempt at instigating a fight.

I looked into eyes as he got close to my face. Yuck. His breathe smelled like sardines, talked with his southern fried pig feet accent and he was shorter than I. Oh gosh, I wasn’t intimidated or concerned and he was quite annoying. I almost laughed in his face.

To make this sad, episode short, after his failed attempted at ‘punking me,’ he runs out of the room to grab something from his bag. Again, another annoying close up of this black ass troll of a human with sardine breathe and a funky southern accent holding a small edge of a broomstick.

fb_img_15448862813071679987099293171324.jpgOh boy, let me run for cover! It’s a stick. Will he beat the brown out of me? Oh Christ, this troll has no mentals or minerals to breath fresh air; much less start a brawl with his own bad breathe. God, who took the jam out of his Krispy Kreme Jelly doughnut!

Staring down at this troll, I was thinking, ‘man this guy needs a role model and a tic-tac!’

I was trying not to laugh at him in his face. He even tried to nudge my chin with the stick when he walked away. I’m jumping out of my skin. Ooh.

This guy was sad. Another failed attempt at instigate a fight he couldn’t win.

As I was walking away while keeping my eye on him; again, from a distance, he kept running his funky mouth. I got into a nice relax karate stance just in case this troll thinks he’s “The Rock” to try to lay the smack down with his small stick. I kept telling this rental, “Is this guy serious?” I was like ‘crack head’ ….. no ‘moonshine’ ………… no ‘just a redneck troll’ ….. gotcha!

I think people these watch too much TV and are lonely. This troll has no sort of life. He must see me as some sort of threat to his ego. I’m about to analyze this shit. It was one part of a loony gloomy Sunday. The other part was even gayer!

cropped-img_20140716_011032.jpg

Anyways, it’s a sunny Monday morning. I’m sitting in my car as the sun

pierce through the clouds. The morning was fresh. All I can think about besides not working was going to Pebble Beach for  some skateboarding -which, I plan to do in a few hours with my bad toe- and this ‘dream’ entry I wrote some months ago was inspired by the late, great Jack Kerouac.

I decided to share it with you guys. So, here’s how it went…I promise no masturbation in this one…..I think???

 

 

I just woke up from dreaming a fuckin weird ass dream. Here’s what happened…..

I was hiking a truck through a town, but it wasn’t in Georgia.

I was getting sluggish during this trip. I almost seem to lose my train of thought like I was injected with a ‘forget-me-not’ serum (or could have been I needed to take a shit after eating a banana and eating some fig bars).

Anyway, it was a typical run into a little rural, in the middle of somewhere, city.

One minute, I was driving a truck on a slippery asphalt. Then a few minutes later, there was nothing around me. Everything just vanquished.

Everything. The truck, my wallet, my phone, and my sense of security.

kerouac-book-of-dreams-2It’s weird, because one minute I was in a mild fitz of panic.

You know, retracing my steps walking up the same street I drove down. I ended up finding a couple of wallets along the way. One with some cash, cards, and ID’s. The other wallet I just picked up with nothing in it.

The first wallet almost looked identical to the one I have; the other wallet had nothing in it.

During this Fitz’d episode, I was thinking ‘how did that fuckin’ truck vanquish out of  thin air?’, also, ‘do I need to call my job, and if so, what the fuck do I say to them?’

On top of that, I had no freakin’ cellphone -man, this is some chill ass “twilight zone” shit!- I thought for a moment.

I kept walking up the street searching for the truck.

I was close to the street corner with the street light where I made the turn to see no truck in sight.

I stood in the middle of the parking lot west of the corner. I checked the wallet, again.

It was a total bust. I guess it was an illusion. Just receipts and small pieces of paper in it.

There was an ID card of some white woman.

I checked the other wallet, again. Nothing in it. It was black leather wallet with the edges tattered, and worn off leather, a bit tawdry.

Man, I felt like i lost my mind, but was in total calm. Interesting…….

Then, I woke up.

Fuck!!img_20140812_140420

What a rush. No hard-on in my funky draws. No cold sweat. It was bland like rice paper….thin and dry -i know rice paper is usual white, but in zen philosophy i could accept rice wine to be brown as i see it to be brown, even though, in movies and various images we see it as white; hence, the paper has a note of brown to make it a light brown- Shit!

I prefer the wine.

くぞやろうだ!!(I’m not a fuckin translator; you learn some Japanese hiragana or find a translator on your own dime to figure out what that means).

Finally, in the end, I actually felt every sense of the dream state. It was like I was actually there.

The acuteness of sensory-perception was palpable.

Wow. What a loss can teach a man?

Well, I interpreted a couple of things from this dream……

First, I was in fitz, but when I woke up, I realized a feeling of relief. It saturated my body like smoking a blunt dipped in codeine.

Ohhhhh yeahhhh! Lit!!

Second, that moment gave me opportune emphasis on ‘clean fresh start.’ Which is why I was mildly fitz’d!

Waking up from a dream like that was liberating. I’m glad I could share this with you.

I remembered years ago buying a book Jack Kerouac wrote about his dreams. The discipline it took to write his drimg_20181209_230416-15308874253454841578.jpgeams was aspiring.

Maybe, I’ll write another dream entry for you..?????

Maybe, I write about her???? (I wish, my game is too weak, right now.)

I doubt it. Ha ha ha…seriously.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s