"To be perfectly honest, the thought did cross my mind. But I would never perform the thought. It forced itself upon me, I have been made a victim at the behest of some foreign side of myself. I know not, whether it dwell within me or outside; there is a quality of familiar difference."
"How dare you deflect? Who are you to have the best of both worlds. You wish to retain your honesty and your integrity while in the same moment admitting betrayal. I despise you all the more for your cowardice."
"My response, as it more of the same, will surely inflame yours. But it is my truth, and as such I must speak it, and nothing else. I would ask, in response, whether you would hold me responsible for my dreams. Or to put it another way, will you lay out your own dreams, and allow me to fault you for the transgressions, the madness, the murder within you? Do not answer, my dear, but think. Think about this, and if you come to an eventual answer, know that it will be tied to my own thought in question. For the thought enters my head as does a dream: suddenly, not lacking in violence or force, and more clearly than other, purposeful thoughts. So yes, of course I've had the thought. I did not will the thought. Were it up to will, my mind would be mine, but this is not the case. I can apologize, but an empty apology it shall have to remain, unless it is to apologize for the whole of my own being. I am willing to perform this castration, if it is what you desire. It will not be without reverberations, poetic and actual."
16 October 2009
05 December 2008
I don't like the taste, but the cold air only ever augments the desire to breathe in smoke. The pumpkin scented candles are the only thing that can keep this room warm, now that winter is setting in. It's December, and fall can still only be felt at night. That, and it hides on the undersides of the leftover leaves. The scent the candles leave behind, I think of as my calling card.
I try not to count down the hours on my days off, but it is usually the only thing I can think to do. The things we look forward to, it's funny, aren't ever all that great. My best moments these days are my walks to work, during which I think I've begun to solve the bee problem. Ten, twenty, a hundred, I see who knows how many on the way to work who have just decided not to go on. That or the freeway noise has canceled out the buzz of their lover's calls. That, or we're just not meant to know everything about the bees.
19 May 2008
A Devil in the Woods
"Fuck all, we're raging tonight."
The sun hit me hard that day. California hadn't yet swung itself far enough for the summer sun to be in full effect, but the elevation brought the sun just a little bit closer, just enough to throw off any sensibilities I may have had. So it hit hard, and the drinks hit harder.
"Food," I thought. "I need food before this goes down." A fleeting precaution.
"Who needs another?" I hear.
"Chad?"
"Ok." "Ok, fine." What's one more silver bullet? What's another after that, and another, and a mixed drink, and a shot? Its all nothing. So much for eating. I've had my fill in calories, anyway. And anyway, fuck all, we were raging that night.
Sure, I'll write that note. "Thanks," I scribble to my brother's fiancée. "IOU for the Smirnoff." There was more, something sweet and sentimental. I can't write more than three words without getting sentimental.
"Haley will love that shit, all of you write notes, IOU's."
Yeah, okay. Write. Right. But for the rest the hands in the room, a pen may as well have been the sword in the stone, desirable, but far from useful. Forget it. Forget it.
"Chad, we're almost at the front of the line. Go get your cousin. We're almost in."
Hell, for all I know I was going to do just that. Grab my cousin, grab another drink, head in to the club. Dance it off. Most likely I thought about dancing and got intimidated. Or I thought about fresh air and got excited. But I doubt it. Fuck all, right?
So out the door I went, I guess. Outside, outside and into the night. Flash.
A window, I think. A window is the first thing I remember seeing. A movie poster? No, no, not that. A neon light. Smaller, but just as bright as all the others. Something I didn't care about. A burger joint, something I would have considered a sin in my younger years. Hell, everything up to that point had been a sin, too. So fuck it, a burger joint. Probably not even open. What time is it? Shit, no phone. What time is it, and where the hell am I? Flash.
A body of water. The lake? No, artificial. Artificial, flashing, singing lights. Or buzzing, more like buzzing. A pool. Its a pool! Its a motel, I think, maybe a hotel. Mid range, not too classy, but not likely to disappoint entirely. Oh, if my mom could only see me now. What a damn shame. The state gives me a degree, my family gives me a free pass, and I give them all this, this pathetic excuse. Blisters on my hands, something that looks like a puncture wound on my chest, and some scrapes on my arm and back. Was it a fight? Did someone dump me here after they'd had their fun? Maybe. But it doesn't add up, there's no pain coming from my face. They would have gone for the face. No bruises, at least none that show up in the reflection of the still pool water. No one on the streets, it must be late. A few cars here and there, probably as far gone as me.
Right, I'm by the lake. The lake ... lake ... Lake Tahoe, thats right. But I'm staying in California. This is the state line, I'm in Nevada. Good god my wallet is still in my pocket. Plastic's gone, but I've got some paper in my front pocket. Good for me, still got some quarters, too. Eight of em. Thats two back from each of four $5.50 drinks. Wouldn't want to think about tallying up the drinks, even if I could. So I call it more than four. Four in a string of many, over the last 48 hours. Focus. I've got a dozen or so miles to cover, so I hit the road.
I've been here, I've seen this. In the kinder light of day, this Safeway reminded me of my hunger. Neon signs now remind me that I forgot to heed them. Thats the way it is these days, screwed if you do, screwed if you don't. So I put it behind me, and keep walking. Another burger joint, small world. All of the people are long gone, the grill is cold, and this one, I know to be open late. Still, few cars go by. Keep walking, champ.
There it is. The Keys, I'm at the Keys. A few more blocks, and I'll be fine. Could even sleep here, if I needed to. Flash. Flash, flash. There's the door, that door I haven't seen since childhood, since I balled up the snow to no avail, to be thrown far short of my target. This place makes me miss my dad, my dear old man. I'm sure my footsteps this night match his exactly; I'm sure he's been here, just like this, just like tonight. Wallet slimmed, head pounding, tired, but home. Oh, home.
The sun wakes me some time later. I recall my brother's words, spoken right before I fell asleep.
"We looked for ya bro. We were worried."
I've never even seen him worry. This is it, I fucked up. I let myself down, went below my own low standards. I've hurt friends, but never family.
"Sorry man, don't worry, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened," I mutter, slowly, perhaps angrily. Angry, no doubt, at myself.
As I've said, the sun wakes me a few hours later. I go downstairs. The world isn't quite right, but it will get there. No one remembers the whole thing. No one remembers to be mad, at me, or at each other, for the fights they inevitably got into. We head to the lake. The sun, its hitting hard, but soon we'll be gone.
The sun hit me hard that day. California hadn't yet swung itself far enough for the summer sun to be in full effect, but the elevation brought the sun just a little bit closer, just enough to throw off any sensibilities I may have had. So it hit hard, and the drinks hit harder.
"Food," I thought. "I need food before this goes down." A fleeting precaution.
"Who needs another?" I hear.
"Chad?"
"Ok." "Ok, fine." What's one more silver bullet? What's another after that, and another, and a mixed drink, and a shot? Its all nothing. So much for eating. I've had my fill in calories, anyway. And anyway, fuck all, we were raging that night.
Sure, I'll write that note. "Thanks," I scribble to my brother's fiancée. "IOU for the Smirnoff." There was more, something sweet and sentimental. I can't write more than three words without getting sentimental.
"Haley will love that shit, all of you write notes, IOU's."
Yeah, okay. Write. Right. But for the rest the hands in the room, a pen may as well have been the sword in the stone, desirable, but far from useful. Forget it. Forget it.
"Chad, we're almost at the front of the line. Go get your cousin. We're almost in."
Hell, for all I know I was going to do just that. Grab my cousin, grab another drink, head in to the club. Dance it off. Most likely I thought about dancing and got intimidated. Or I thought about fresh air and got excited. But I doubt it. Fuck all, right?
So out the door I went, I guess. Outside, outside and into the night. Flash.
A window, I think. A window is the first thing I remember seeing. A movie poster? No, no, not that. A neon light. Smaller, but just as bright as all the others. Something I didn't care about. A burger joint, something I would have considered a sin in my younger years. Hell, everything up to that point had been a sin, too. So fuck it, a burger joint. Probably not even open. What time is it? Shit, no phone. What time is it, and where the hell am I? Flash.
A body of water. The lake? No, artificial. Artificial, flashing, singing lights. Or buzzing, more like buzzing. A pool. Its a pool! Its a motel, I think, maybe a hotel. Mid range, not too classy, but not likely to disappoint entirely. Oh, if my mom could only see me now. What a damn shame. The state gives me a degree, my family gives me a free pass, and I give them all this, this pathetic excuse. Blisters on my hands, something that looks like a puncture wound on my chest, and some scrapes on my arm and back. Was it a fight? Did someone dump me here after they'd had their fun? Maybe. But it doesn't add up, there's no pain coming from my face. They would have gone for the face. No bruises, at least none that show up in the reflection of the still pool water. No one on the streets, it must be late. A few cars here and there, probably as far gone as me.
Right, I'm by the lake. The lake ... lake ... Lake Tahoe, thats right. But I'm staying in California. This is the state line, I'm in Nevada. Good god my wallet is still in my pocket. Plastic's gone, but I've got some paper in my front pocket. Good for me, still got some quarters, too. Eight of em. Thats two back from each of four $5.50 drinks. Wouldn't want to think about tallying up the drinks, even if I could. So I call it more than four. Four in a string of many, over the last 48 hours. Focus. I've got a dozen or so miles to cover, so I hit the road.
I've been here, I've seen this. In the kinder light of day, this Safeway reminded me of my hunger. Neon signs now remind me that I forgot to heed them. Thats the way it is these days, screwed if you do, screwed if you don't. So I put it behind me, and keep walking. Another burger joint, small world. All of the people are long gone, the grill is cold, and this one, I know to be open late. Still, few cars go by. Keep walking, champ.
There it is. The Keys, I'm at the Keys. A few more blocks, and I'll be fine. Could even sleep here, if I needed to. Flash. Flash, flash. There's the door, that door I haven't seen since childhood, since I balled up the snow to no avail, to be thrown far short of my target. This place makes me miss my dad, my dear old man. I'm sure my footsteps this night match his exactly; I'm sure he's been here, just like this, just like tonight. Wallet slimmed, head pounding, tired, but home. Oh, home.
The sun wakes me some time later. I recall my brother's words, spoken right before I fell asleep.
"We looked for ya bro. We were worried."
I've never even seen him worry. This is it, I fucked up. I let myself down, went below my own low standards. I've hurt friends, but never family.
"Sorry man, don't worry, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened," I mutter, slowly, perhaps angrily. Angry, no doubt, at myself.
As I've said, the sun wakes me a few hours later. I go downstairs. The world isn't quite right, but it will get there. No one remembers the whole thing. No one remembers to be mad, at me, or at each other, for the fights they inevitably got into. We head to the lake. The sun, its hitting hard, but soon we'll be gone.
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