[Originally written on 1.19.06]
Memories are plaguing me tonight. As I sit here watching the Sopranos, drinking whiskey after having smoked a bowl, someone sleeps nearby and the scene brings this mind to an apartment in E-town four years ago. The familiarity of the situation does not cease to amuse me, as does the fact that I left that asshole for what I thought was a better one and still find myself right where I was before.
The chaotic sequences of my dreams the past few days have surely been influenced by my choice of stimulus during waking hours, as the subconscious tends to pick up on that sort of thing while also manifesting fears and desires. Here are the things that I can remember.
Last Nite: Swing music filled the air as bodies twirled around a dance floor. Decked out in vintage attire suitable for a Hollywood film, I was in Jon’s arms and he looked just as stunning, his face unchanged by year of drug and alcohol abuse. We danced closer than anyone else despite the upbeat tempo that continued to swell, our passionate one-on-one conversation secluded from the rest of the world. Removed from prying eyes, we were engaged in passionate kissing, and when there was a small break between them, he inquired what I would like to do. Upon replying, I suggested it was something not subject for public display. Then I woke up.
The Nite Before: The Garden State was under an alien attack, War of the Worlds style with people screaming in every direction. The neighborhood is already in run and Jon comes strolling through the rubble like a postapocalyptic warrior, shouting orders into a crackling radio before hoisting me to my feet. Walking along the desolate Parkway, the sound of incoming fire had us on edge though he encouraged me to keep going, insisting that we had to get out of Jersey and it needed to be soon. Adrenaline and fear kept the heart racing at a fast pace as shelter was sought, and everyone has the collective thought of I’m going to die. At some point we emerged from our safe hiding places, and all seemed calm until some sort of craft fell out of the sky and the screaming started all over again. Kind of glad I woke up from that one before getting stuck in it.
The Nite Before That: On carnival grounds, wearing high heels and dressed to kill, I am excited to be seeing the Family. The entire Outlaw Cirkus crew was gathered and seated in rows of wooden folding chairs. Smiling faces and warm hands greeted me, as it had been a while since we saw each other yet everyone was engaged in conversation as though no time had passed. Austin and Aaron were up front, the two of them placing a kiss on both cheeks and complimenting my appearance. We then sat down for a variety show, though there are suddenly other people around us who are making rude comments, so the three of us decide to leave. Unfortunately that is where I lost the dream.
For some reason that least dream brings up memories of the time I spent hanging with Jerry. Often I spent the evenings after work sitting in his bunk and just listening to his stories. At his point it doesn’t even matter if they were true or not, due to the fact I appreciated that he made the effort to tell them at all. While he talked to the other workers and whatnot, I like to feel that we a different kind of connection. Right now I miss sitting in his room, smoking a joint and watching movies.
One night while at the spot in Frederick, Jerry hatched an idea. The bunk house was set against a hill, and there was a pair of mattresses stored in the back. Well he suggested we take them and prop them up on the hill, thus creating a couch. While someone tried to discredit his idea, the rest of us set to work pulling out the mattresses and placing them as suggested. It actually turned out well even though trying to cram everyone onto this makeshift couch was a whole other feat. Anyway, this had been done for optimum viewing pleasure of the selected film of the evening, as Jerry had a t.v. and DVD player that he was kind enough to share with everyone so long as someone provided a movie.
That night it happened to be Swing Kids, which I purchased earlier that week at Wal*Mart out of curiosity. The bio had piqued my curiosity: based on a true story about the rebellious youth of Nazi-Germany that just wanted to enjoy swing music, the bonds of friendship between four young men are tested when one of them two of them are recruited into the Hitler youth. This helpful article has much more information about the whole movement, which I have found quite interesting as far as historical gangs go. Watched it again last night on account I was just in the mood to and perhaps wanted to fill my head with swing music in the hopes of having more dreams.
For some reason I have been looking forward to going up to Clifton, perhaps excited at the prospect of getting over the awkwardness of going out by myself. Though I had invited Jon, there was some work he had to do on the Mercury, otherwise he would have been more than happy to accompany me. He did send me some spending cash, which really wasn’t necessary but that’s just how he is, so I sent him a mushy thank-you note in return.
Drinking the last of this whiskey and then going to step out for another smoke so I can be off to bed and get an early start tomorrow. In two more weeks I will be moving out of here and I can’t wait. It’s time to replace old negative memories with new positive ones, and it will be much easier when a certain someone is out of sight and out of mind. However, I need to take care of a few things first and will begin taking care of that business in the morning.