Sunday July 11 2010

Chad comes into my room waking me up. He’s leaving for his 7-month deployment. I could only offer him a hand shake and mumble in a groggy sleep voice, “Alright man.” I’m gonna miss this guy.

DREAM: I walk into this big cafeteria room. I see a dozen or so of these structures attached to the ceiling where you can jump up and grab onto a bar and spin yourself around similar to something you would find in a park. I try one of the smaller ones but it doesn’t work for me. The ones built higher I can’t reach. All of a sudden, I realize I’m being locked up and held captive for some kind of science experiment. A big man starts chasing me around the room with a shot needle in his hand. The leader of the project is sitting on the floor teaching kids how to stretch or exercise. I run up to him, grab his face, and repeatedly yell, “YOU CAN’T CONTROL ME! YOU CAN’T CONTROL ME! YOU CAN’T CONTROL ME!” emphasizing different tones as I continue telling him. The other big man chasing me is watching nearby and being cautious in case I decide to harm the boss.

Waking up at 2:44 p.m.

Breakfast: Toasted Bagel with Cream Cheese. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin E, Alfalfa Grain.

Ambrotious got outside. With Kyle and Elaina – we team up and chase after him in the street.

Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt N Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Work at China Wok.

Delivering an order on Curlew. A giant battered white house bordered with trees so no neighbors can see. There’s an interesting vibe to this place with its solitary gargoyle-esque statues grown into the ivy vines. The door of the house, a gothic style with a face sculpted into it along with some fingers and hands. Finally a guy comes to the door. He explains to me the face on the door was the wife of the artist that made the door as well as the hands being the artist’s. Then he shows me a sculpt of his hand on a stick he got when he was 7 years old. The process: one must place their hand in a bucket of ice for 5 minutes until complete numbness, then you dip the hand in a special hot wax creating an accurate shell.

Dinner: Vegetable Lo Mein

Color practice at the unit.

Elliott gives me some guitar pedals to try out.

At home, playing Art and Roma in Unreal.

Dylan Gilbert and his band and a bunch of people come over.

At the storage unit testing out some pedals and writing songs.

Having stressful yet productive (I think) talks with Emily in the kitchen, then moving to our room. Rachel walks in and becomes a fly on the wall as we spat it out.

My thoughts are racing on many issues but only one of them sticks it’s ugly and raunchy head.

Going for a walk with Rachel around the neighborhood – venting.

Noticing the distinct colors everywhere and how the early morning light brings that out.

Okay. Okay. You’ve won your game. I’m affected. Yes, I’m suffering. Yes, I’m hurting because you’re with someone else. But really should I be? What am I really missing? Is it just a sexual withdrawal? Is it emotional? I really don’t know why or how to explain what I’m feeling. Yeah, I see you on my living room floor with him; in my own house you taunt me. But I haven’t given up yet. I can fight this and I can win. I usually have before anyway. Your psychosis is apparent by not just me, but many. I will use this as ammo to remind myself what I am not missing. But in the end, I will still miss – always missing something.

The cat escapes again and again. Still frazzled, the cat attacks Rachel’s ankle. She retreats to my bed and sleeps there.

Sleep around 7:30 a.m.

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