Saturday October 30 2010



DREAM: I am Jean Claude Van Damme, the Belgian martial artist and actor. I’ve got a girl with me and we’re running from the authorities. At the bottom floor of a building that’s at least 100 stories high. I see the bad guy coming after us. I grab her and head for the elevator. We jump inside and as the doors are shutting I can see the angry faces of our chasers. She hits a button that takes the elevator so far down it starts to dig through the earth—hearing the electronic sounds signifying errors in the elevator’s mechanical system. In her mind this is suicidal yet the most efficient way to escape. But it was all just psychological because I open the door to find we’re only at the basement level. We run around the corner and take the stairs up because they’re probably coming down to look for us. It’s not a simple stair plan—very intricate and mazy layout. At one point the width of the stairs is so tiny we can only fit one foot on it. The stairs are blue. A lot of the doors are locked and we can’t get through them. Eventually we find a double door that seems doable. To the right is a woman manning a desk. To the left is an orange lynx creeping on another staircase to which I didn’t feel much danger. I put my finger through a hole pressing on a white powdery gunk that vibrates every time I push it. I express to the woman, “This is an emergency!” She lets us through. We take a right into a department store similar to a JC Penny in a mall. I see racks of clothes everywhere and employees. We turn around and go to the other end of the building. At some point we part ways to trick our captors. I break into an office room. There’s an old man standing by a table with headphones on. The door to the outside has a long protruding handle that I pull with extra strength. I make it through and start climbing down the stairs. To the right I can see the sky and the rest of the foggy city far below. There he is, my nemesis. He eyeballs me from a thick glass window, points a gun, and pulls the trigger. But the bullets barely make a scratch in the window. He continues to shoot as I make my way down the curved staircase acrobatically. I notice a pole in the center of the building is big and wide. I grab onto it and slide down with ease as if it was a fireman’s pole—all the way down at least a hundred flights. I try to slow myself down a little because I keep gaining speed. I can hear radio alerts being sent out to the SWAT team to perimeter the building. I finally make it to the bottom kind of slamming my butt on the ground but I’m okay. I run away through a field—aware now that my shirt is off and I have nice six-pack abs. The SWAT team is spread out making their way to the building. They don’t really notice me as I hop up and down and climb over a wall covered in ivy.


Just after 4:30 p.m. I wake up.


Breakfast: Toasted Bagel Plain with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.


Quick stop at Alpha to buy a Postal Monkey guitar case.


Work at China Wok.


Meeting Margot at Bankok Garden.

Ordering Chicken Pad Thai with a tall glass of Thai Tea.

She wants me to join her at Harpoon Larry’s afterwards to hang out with her friends. I decline respectfully because I don’t really feel like going out and drinking. Her mood switches to pouty and upset mode. This sparks arguments that I can’t win. The plate of hot Pad Thai just sitting there steaming under our noses as the stubbornness from both of us unveils. I don’t know how but times like these always find a way to lighten up after a while. Finally eating our meal—more like I’m eating the meal as she nibbles on small bites (she lost her appetite).


Back at home.

Margot puts on her Alice costume and hugs Chris leaving glitter all over his clothes and skin. She goes off into oblivion.


JP arrives spontaneously, which I was hoping he would do this weekend.

We watch The Living Wake [2007].

Stretching and doing ab crunches.

We walk to Wawa for milk. Talking about our individual hair loss experiences and our psychological fears associated with it. He’s been taking acupuncture therapy, which has helped.

Chocolate Chip Cookies and Milk.

Sometimes I wish our friendship were closer. I think we could both benefit.


Margot needs me to pick her up from the bar. I tell her I’ll be there at 2 a.m. Despite, she still calls me repetitively.

I got her—she’s in the passenger seat. She keeps yelling, “Let go! Let go!” I think she means Let’s go! Measuring her drunkenness on a scale of 1 to 10, I would rate her an 11. The Backstreet Boys ringtone on her phone goes off. I watch her grab a pack of gum out of her purse and answer it, “Hello?” She’s toppling over as I guide her inside the house and rest her on the couch.


Researching the best shower water filter to get. JP brought up the danger of chlorine when taking a shower, especially a hot shower.


Updating upcoming shows.


It’s around 5 a.m. Emily’s getting ready for work and Margot just woke up from her sleep. Our roommate’s cat is meowing up a storm. Margot calls out my name “Robert! Robert! Robert!” in sync with the cat’s meow.


Eating an Egg Sandwich and Baked Lay’s. Blueberry Yogurt.


It’s about 7 a.m. I’m riding my bike to the beach to drive her car back to the house so she can have it in the morning. I feel grateful to see the sunrise before I sleep.


Margot: “Robur, Robur, Robert…come here…”


The toilet overflowed right before I’m about to get into bed. Roma was the last to use it but I don’t think it was his fault. So in an annoyed fit I clean it up using my handy dandy Shop Vac and some baking soda spray.


Phew. Now I can sleep and join Alice in bed…9 a.m.

Friday October 29 2010



DREAM: A line of different brand chocolate bars spread out on a counter in a dark kitchen-like room. Someone’s coming in looking for me. I try to be discreet at first but then make my presence known—playing an innocent role. Exclaiming that I invented all these chocolate bars and I’m just gathering all of them to take home. More officials walk in. They seem to be compliant with my story and help me put all the bars in the bags. One of them in particular is the actor, Aaron Eckhart.


Around 5 p.m. I wake up. Ambrotious hops up onto the bed and plops in my arms. Dozing in and out while he scratches his self.


Breakfast: Toasted Bagel Plain with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.


Going to Alpha to find a guitar case. Then stopping by Target for s’mores stuff.


Ken and Rocky help me gather wood from down the street.

Starting the fire in the backyard for SHOW N TELL (Are You Afraid of the Dark Edition): http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=491933460309&set=a.491933440309.296676.271092470309#!/album.php?aid=296676&id=271092470309

A unique congregation around the fire—sharing stories from local urban legends and from personal experience.

Making s’mores.

A guy brought his flaming talent—throwing fireballs through the air.

During the whole event, Kenneth is rearranging his plant stuff in the shed.

Will describes to me his recent substitute teaching experiences, which was incredibly positive.

Harry is breaking down wood and continuing to add to the fire—the most beautiful fire pit I think I’ve ever seen.


Dinner: Leftover Cabbage and Potato with White Kidney Beans.

Noodling on the guitar.


A few people lingering in the living room some coupled on the couches. I’m meddling with discarded couch cushions and talking about using the foam for a vocal booth. Louis, sitting in the green rocking chair, calls me a walking art project. I feel sympathetic towards him because he lost his only pair of glasses earlier. We had a search party looking for them. According to him this drastically changes so many things for him.


Eating a bowl of Cherrios with Banana and Brown Sugar.


Trying to upload video footage from these old hi8 tapes I have. Having problems getting the sound to match up with the video. Troubleshooting…


Sleep around 8 a.m.

Thursday October 28 2010



4:30 p.m. I wake up.


Breakfast: Toasted Bagel Plain with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.


Here’s a descriptive review of a Battle of the Bands Musicplayer did recently: http://umwbullet.com/2010/10/28/a-hard-fought-battle-of-the-bands-goes-to-musicplayer/


A productive MUSICPLAYER practice at the storage unit.


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


Talking with Margot in my room.

Eating Blueberry Yogurt with Strawberries and Grapes.

We go to the unit for some privacy—sex.

She wants that hot Oat Bran cereal I used to make with blueberries, so we stop at Kmart. It’s $8.99 for a tiny half pint of blueberries! Margot: “That’s even too expensive for me.” I settle for bananas and cocoa.


Back home, she’s making Mashed Potatoes out of the box.

Putting on that documentary I watched a few days ago, The Science of Sex Appeal to share with her.

Stretching, ab crunches.


Dinner: Pad Thai Noodles with Mixed Vegetables.

She’s napping on the couch while I cook chocolate syrup.

Drinking Chocolate Milk.


I’m preparing to record vocals so I’m researching online to see if having my firewire audio interface is enough preamp to do the job. And drawing up a plan to build my own vocal booth.


Going for a run around the neighborhood despite the wind chill.


Eating a bowl of Frosted Shredded Wheat Cereal.

Watching the rest of My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done? [2009].

“What do you mean by birds [flamingos]! They’re my eagles in drag!”

A wonderful take on this film: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1233219/board/nest/171892145?d=171892145&p=1#171892145


I have to stay up until at least 8 a.m. There’s a guy coming to look at our air system. It hasn’t been working.

He’s running late, so I go to the post office real quick.


Then to bed. 9 a.m.

Wednesday October 27 2010



DREAM: With a few girls and guys, including Josiah and Felix. We have to join another band in their tour van to make it to the next city. It’s an overnight drive. Standing in the side entrance of the van waiting for the guys to choose their spots. All of them talking to each other about where they’re going to sit, “Where are you sitting?” “I’m going up front.” Looking around, it’s extremely crowded and a tight fit. Finally we can choose our spots. “Where are you sitting Josiah?” “I’m going right here.” He settles down in the back row along with 5 other people. I lie down on the floor right at the end of a row near the door. I have a sleeping bag balled up—on my stomach. All I plan on doing is sleeping. The van starts moving. After a while they make me move to the outside of the van in a makeshift chair—wind blowing in my face—similar to a lookout spot on a boat. I watch Felix on the road lying down on a board with wheels, similar to what car mechanics use to get under cars. He tries to do this trick where he jumps up from the board suddenly and grabs the telephone/electrical wire. He misses and stumbles back on the ground—the van still moving. I say out loud, “Awhhhh!” along with the others. Somehow, he’s back on the board and still in front of the van. The driver starts showing these film clips of people doing crazy aerobatic tricks. Being where I am with the danger of falling off, I didn’t think this to be an appropriate thing for me to watch. I watch anyways getting a thrill out of it.


5:30 p.m. I wake up.


My ceiling fan is on the highest setting making it room temp comfortable, but the whole house is hot. Our A/C is not working properly.


Breakfast: Toasted Bagel with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin E.


Business.


Art and I play tennis.


In the passenger seat of Art’s car going home, I see Doug in his white Oldsmobile waiting at the stoplight on the corner of First Colonial near Wawa. I throw a green apple at him hoping it will pass into his window but it misses and hits the hood of his car.


As we arrive home there’s cop cars crowding the streets. On the porch with Elaina, her dad, Kenneth, and Doug. The officers scour the grounds of the house next door and across the street with flashlights—the female officer is armed with a rifle in hand pointing towards the sky ready for action. I question everyone on the porch if they know what this is all about. Kenneth confesses it may have something to do with his archery antics earlier. Eventually, a cop approaches and asks if anyone knows anything about someone using a bow and arrow. After an awkward silence that lasts for about 5 seconds, Kenneth fesses up and there’s a long conversation between him and the cops—G.I. Jane still holding her rifle.


Eating lunch on the porch, all of us listening to Kenneth tell stories and rant on as usual. At some point he holds up his bow and arrow and faces the street yelling, “I am the fucking greatest archer!” The presence of Elaina’s dad adds an interesting dynamic to the group. Kenneth walks off for a little bit and her dad says, “I used to be just like him when I geeked out.”


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


Elaina discovers a mushroom growing in our bathroom in the corner where the tub meets the wood floor. (photo above not actual mushroom in bathroom) “Wow! That’s crazy. I’ve never seen that before.”


In my bedroom, Doug is sitting on the floor. Sharing his latest thrift store finds including a ton of cool t-shirts, one that he lets me borrow indefinitely, a red U.S.S.R. shirt. We talk for quite some time. I share tour stories with him—some of the pranks we did on each other—listening and analyzing the good and bad parts of Mae songs. He shows me his Youtube socks he got from the CMJ festival, which are just tube socks that say Youtube. Haha. Get it?

Apparently there have been a lot of UFO sightings this past year in China, one recently shut down an airport: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/10/06/china-ufo-sighting-video_n_753179.html The logical widespread explanation: military related experiments. But who knows for sure? It’s starting to get real up in here.

Doug: “People be crazy.”

Also, water was discovered on the moon. About a billion gallons of it just in one crater near the south pole, enough to fill 1,500 Olympic sized swimming pools. They say this is enough to keep to supply a lunar base.


Eating Vanilla Yogurt with Strawberries and Clementines.


Because of all the things that were going on I became indisposed from my phone. Margot tried to get in touch with me about seeing each other tonight or tomorrow. Finally getting back with her over the phone. She’s upset, “I’m so mad at you right now.” I suggest something for tomorrow since she has to go to bed soon for work early in the morning, “Let’s make plans for tomorrow, baby.” It’s not good enough for her. She won’t drop it. Everything is dramatic in her world. Her needs. My needs. Two different things except for the basics. Deeper issues are brought up on her end.


Eating a bowl Cabbage and Potato Skillet with White Kidney Beans. And Garlic Biscuit Toasters.

Watching My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done [2009].


Cinnamon Bun and Milk.


Recording at the storage unit.


Sleep 8:15 a.m.

Tuesday October 26 2010



DREAM: Hanging out with Shannon, an old youth group friend from years ago. We’re in a kitchen. Excited to see each other after such a long time. She’s cooking something. I look at her standing there—wearing soft grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. With a smile I ask her, “So how’s the married life?” She says, “It’s okay,” in a way that makes me believe it really is okay but also with a hint that it’s sometimes a struggle. There’s a package of raw red meat on the counter. I pick up a slab with intent on eating it but then after one bite I toss it in the sink—trying to hide it so Shannon can’t see that I’m being wasteful. I keep doing this periodically throughout our conversation.


5 p.m. I wake up.


Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin E.


A Norfolk Police Officer’s body was found on Oceana Blvd by the strip club—just down the street from my house: http://www.wtkr.com/news/wtkr-officer-dead-oct,0,2858233.story


Going to the usual stores for some groceries. I stop at Cash Converters to look for a computer monitor. The cheapest flat screen they have is $29.99. I notice the only old school full size monitor is $1.99. I ask the cashier guy, who seems to be partially deaf because I have to repeat myself, “What’s the catch?” “That’s just how much we sell them for. We only buy them for a dollar.” I end up purchasing this one.


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


Emily, Wesley, and Jon are in my room. Emily’s packing up her things.

Ambrotious hops on the weigh scale. “He weighs ten pounds.” We discover it takes 14 Ambys to make up the weight of Wesley and I individually.


Testing out some computer monitors at the storage unit—trying to eliminate unwanted noise caused from the electric current coming off the monitors.


Eating a slice of Pizza that Wesley offered me from Chanello’s.


Going for a run around the neighborhood.


Enjoying a Strawberry, Blueberry, Pomegranate Smoothie.


James and Jess (She’s in town for a few days) come over and join Roma, Art, and I for poker.

Roma finds a way to say this every time we play, “Big money! Big City! Big People!”

I make a pizza from scratch to which everybody dines in on. Drinking a PBR.

I win second place with my money back while Art wins the pot.


Art has the whole day off. He’s lingering in my bedroom chatting with me about people and things.


Eating a bowl of Cabbage and Potato Skillet.


Recording at the storage unit.


Snacking on Grapes.


Reading.


Sleep 8 a.m.

Monday October 25 2010



DREAM: I feel this incredible burden—the burden of 20 or so people that died. Floating high in the sky above a great expanse of misty mountains and green forests and grey seas—surrounding the 20 lost souls that seem to be trapped in this cloud. Their pain and their history are unbearable. Another person is with me experiencing the same sensations. He leaves. It’s too much for me and I free their spirits. It was the right thing to do. I return to my friend and inform him what I’ve done. We both feel like a thousand bricks were taken off our backs—we feel lighter. ☼☼☼ Ambrotious has another wound that’s deeper and bigger than before, and in the same exact spot. With Emily trying to figure out what caused it. I try to convince her that taking this cat to the vet is crucial otherwise it will die this time. The wound is so deep I can see his organs. There’s an empty space in the bottom of his abdomen that I assume is where his bowel is formed. I remember he hasn’t been pooping lately. I notice a piece of paper with colored marker written on it stuck inside his stomach—I think it’s one of the many signs I stick around the house. He must’ve eaten it. “I think that is what’s causing him problems.” I reach in and pull it out easily. He didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Rinsing my hands in the sink, Emily questions me, “What are you doing?” “I have cat blood on me!” “Oh.” The cat starts walking across the floor and begins peeing on the carpet. Emily runs to retrieve him before he finishes. I should be getting angry but I control myself, “Ah, he’s just sick and confused.” I pick him up and go to the bathroom. I notice there is two litter boxes by the toilet—one is the original box with blue-colored litter and the other is a new one with orange-colored litter. Why did Emily add another one? I remember her saying earlier in the dream that she needed to keep the cat here for a few weeks after she moved out, so maybe the extra litter box is so nobody has to clean it and can just use it as a replacement. I place Amby into the new one so he can finish his business but he doesn’t seem interested in peeing or pooping. He digs his head into the orange litter and with both his paws covers himself with the rocks. It looks so human the way he’s doing it. Thinking to myself, I need to record this and put it on Youtube. He must be feeling better.


5 p.m. waking up.


Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin E.


Business.


Washing bed sheets. You have to do that every now and then.


Making Cabbage & Potato Skillet with Onions from scratch. Adding an Egg and eating a huge bowl of it. Delicious.

Finishing It Might Get Loud [2008]. Ambrotious in my lap. The combination of his body and the food is making me really hot.


Trying to fix our internet connection. I keep having to reconnect multiple times.


Recording at the storage unit for a few hours.


Back home, eating a bowl of Cherrios with Brown Sugar and Strawberries.

Watching a documentary on The Science of Sex Appeal.


Visiting Margot at her place for a while. Snacking on Strawberries. She’s watching the Kardashians. Explaining to her some of the interesting discoveries on the documentary I was watching earlier and how the Golden Ratio affects our idea of what’s attractive.


Back at the unit recording.


Eating a Peanut Butter Sandwich.


Relax. Chill. Sleep 8 a.m.

Sunday October 24 2010



DREAM: Playing a show with Chris and Kal—a MUSICPLAYER show. The audience is people from the church I used to go to a few years ago. They’re all sitting in folding chairs on a stage. I’m playing something soft and ethereal on the guitar to go with the spiritual aura surrounding everyone. Eventually, Chris starts the stick count to begin “Cryptic”. Kal and I hit the D but not exactly on the beat because Chris did it differently than how we usually do it. It’s supposed to be “1-2-1-2-3-4” but he only counted 4 and it threw us off. I stop the song before the measure even ends. Feeling an awkwardness and disturbance in the show. It kind of ruined the vibe. I keep switching spots on stage—everywhere I stand there seems to be a bump under my feet. I finally make my stance in the perfect spot. We continue on with our set.


4:15 p.m. getting out of bed.


Breakfast: Oatmeal Breakfast Bar. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin E.


Work at China Wok.


Sitting in the van waiting for orders to come in. Some dudes just parked and got out of their car. One of them reads the bumper sticker on my van out loud, “Porn rapes the mind!” Encouraging his buddies to read it, “Dude! Read it.” The other replies, “Damn, I like getting raped.”


Eating Salt N Vinegar Chips, a Banana, and drinking Honey Green Tea.


Selling twin-size mattresses to a lady from Hampton.


Emily is leaving the house soon. Sad face =( Ambrotious will be gone too. Another sad face =( However, we’re one step closer to being an all-male house.


Stretching and doing crunches.


At home eating two slices of homemade leftover Pizza with Peppers and Onions.

Starting It Might Get Loud [2008], a documentary profiling Jack White, The Edge, and Jimmy Page.


Playing basketball with Art. During a game of Free Throw Shootout there’s a discrepancy on the rules and we get into a squabble about it. But we finish anyways. Sharing our recent experiences with our roommate’s girlfriend and her obnoxiously loud prepubescent voice.


Kenneth stops in. His sister, Virginia, had a dinner at her house in remembrance of Joni, our former landlord. He’s ranting on and on about how worldly the people there are. He feels like people are putting up stumbling blocks just to see him fail. “…I’ve been 42 for 42 fuckin years…” “…I always give it 120 percent…I’m trying to build a future for myself…” I watch him fidget with the Green Tea box I just dismantled and tossed in the recycle bin—he’s pacing around the floor. Even when I leave the room for a second I can still hear him speaking even though I obviously can’t hear it. He needs someone to just listen but if nobody’s there he’ll settle talking to himself. He mentions something about idle hands and asks me what the bible says about that. “It’s the devil’s playground,” I reply. He uses his deep classic raspy voice, “Rob, you’re a rare dude…you guys know what you’re doing here.” He always adds admiration for me and the house at the end of our conversations.


At the storage unit tweaking guitar tone and tuning.


Back home watching It Might Get Loud.

Dinner: Salmon, Asparagus, Garlic Bread. Powdered Pastry (sorry Ems, I couldn’t resist).

Sonhouse: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QA8-ZOuKetU


Back to the unit recording.


Finishing the second DOOM novel.


Sleep 8:15 a.m.

Saturday October 23 2010



DREAM: There’s a huge event with a list of different contests you can compete in. It’s such a big thing Indonesians are flying over to join in. I’m walking around with my friend Yunda, who I haven’t seen since my last visit to Indonesia. She’s acting as my secretary carrying a clipboard with all the times for each contest. We’re in the hall of a mall watching a more successful band play first because they have to get on the road soon. I’m supposed to play later as a solo act. Switch to a scene in a classroom—people scattered about on mats and sleeping bags asleep—most are naked but some have war paint, Indian loin cloth, and feathers attached to their bodies. I had been looking for a button or switch that does something special. I find it and turn it on. It causes humps in each person’s mat to rise up slowly—people are waking up quite disturbed. I notice a girl in the corner, naked—the hump is rising up high in the middle of her mat causing her to tumble and roll over. I apologize out loud. A guy with a potbelly and red war paint and feathers approaches me. He’s bleeding. I offer him a wet cold rag. “Sorry, it’s kind of cold.” He rubs it over his nipple—an expression of slight pain on his face. I’m trying to climb down a tall ladder now from atop a ledge—face forward taking caution in each step. I reach over to another ladder next to me that doesn’t seem to be straight and looks unstable. Earlier, I remember it being set up properly. I yell out to the people below, “Who moved this ladder?” Josiah from above notices my tactic in the way I move down the ladder (face-forward) and comments, “Wow. I never thought of doing it that way.” In response I think to myself It’s really not that great. I finally make it to the bottom and join the others. We’re driving in a van now—on tour. I have two slices of bread with two slices of cheese in my hand—it’s cold. “I’m making a grilled cheese!” Taking a lighter and warming up spots on the cheese to melt it. It creates a strange browning effect and doesn’t thoroughly melt the cheese but will have to suffice.


4:46 p.m. I wake up. It’s cold in here. Remembering cold themes within the dream.


Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin E.


Work at China Wok.


Lunch: Hard Boiled Egg. Salt N Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.


Waiting for orders inside the restaurant—watching my boss and her husband bickering in Chinese—expecting English subtitles to appear in midair. Sometimes I can really imagine them and get a general idea on the subject of the conversation. He playfully slaps her on the butt. After she leaves he tries to explain to me in the best English he can that she’s impatient.


Number of Non-Tippers for this shift: 1

First Non-Tipper

Race/Description: African-American male in his 20’s with a girl.

General Location: Biltmore Drive near Emerald Point Apartments

Type of Residence: Medium Sized Apartment

Quality of Residence (5-Star Rating): **

Amount of Order: Over $22.32

Friendly/Non-Friendly: Friendly


Riding with Margot to 37th and Zen to see Mas Y Mas, The Invisible Hand, and The Super Vacations. Snacking on Grapes. Commenting on the gratuitous number of no’s she keeps using, “You can’t always say no. You have to say yes eventually.”

Elliott meets us there. Sitting and talking with him about the initial mystery and charm one has when you first meet them and how that gets lost over time as the mystery unfolds—and after that you have to choose to love or leave.


Dinner: Fish Tacos with Jalapeno Beans and Rice.


She’s being touchy with me as we watch the bands. I resist. She texts me in response because the music is so loud: (actual text with mistakes caused from sensitive iphone touch screen) “The only wa to keep me fro messing is to hold the hand that’s unruly.”

I draw a picture of her in my notebook.

Her response, “I look like a monster!”


Back at home…business and scheduling.

Eating a bowl of Cherrios with Brown Sugar and Banana.


At the storage unit. Finding out Windows XP is not genuinely activated on the desktop I use to record with and the 30-day trial is over. I can’t log onto Windows. I decide to play the piano. It’s been quite some time since I’ve sat down and sunk my fingers into the ivory keys. I pause after a while and pray.


I take my emachine desktop home and troubleshoot. Now the activation is complete. Phew.

Eating Strawberries.


DOOM.


Reading.


Sleep 8 a.m.

Friday October 22 2010



DREAM: I’m in a room designed for a level in a video game. There are many doors and hallways. But I stay in the main corridor—surprisingly well lit. No one seems to be here. I’m alone. All of a sudden a man is standing before me in the distance. He shoots a gun. I watch a bullet approach in slow motion. The bullet looks more like a small ball of chocolate but turns out to be a blueberry. He continues to shoot at me. “These are blueberries!” I cry out to make him aware blueberries will not cause any harm. I pick them up and throw them back never really hitting him. He keeps running around the room. I have to throw in advance to the spot where he will be in a few seconds if I want to hit him. I get him on the head eventually.


Just before 5 p.m. I wake up.


Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.


Business.


Quick trip to Trader Joe’s.


MUSICPLAYER practice at the storage unit.

Talking to Chris, “You and Margot are similar in that you can make anything sound good.”

Eating a Hard Boiled Egg, Salt N Vinegar Chips—drinking Honey Green Tea.

Playing a gig at Chicho’s Pizza in Chesapeake. Trying out our new song, “Minks”. Eating Pizza. The crowd is sparse tonight and not too many good reactions except for some light applause. A group of kids recognized me from SHOW N TELL. Meeting and talking with them—they seemed to appreciate the music.


Unloading equipment at the storage unit.


Dumpster Diving at Trader Joe’s. The finds: Strawberries, Grapes, Clementines, Tomato, Granny Smith Apples, Asparagus, Artichoke Parmesan Dip, Salmon, Tilapia, Chicken Tortellini, Bread, Eggs, Whole Wheat Pizza Dough.

Slaving away cleaning up the strawberries and grapes.

Cleaning out the fridge.


Updating drivers for my computer and other miscellaneous things.


Eating Saltine Crackers with Artichoke Parmesan Dip. Tomato Lime Salad. Hot Thai Tea.

Watching Heist [2001].


A hot shower on a cold night is perfect.


Sleep 8 a.m.

Thursday October 21 2010



Just after 5 p.m. I wake up.


Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.


Trip to Big Lots, Target, and Harris Teeter.


Thinking about cowardice and how much it holds so many of us back from peace.


Lunch: Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt N Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Watching a National Geographic documentary called The Moment of Death “explores the physical and psychological changes experienced by the human body in the moments before and after death. When does a person really die, and what happens at that precise second when life ends?”


Business and rent stuff.


Eating a Mango and Kinder Chocolate.


Setting up to track guitars for “The Sirens”—testing guitar tone.


Stretching and doing crunches at home.


Picking up my drunken girlfriend from Harpoon Larry’s (She calls it Poon’s for short). She’s hiccupping in the car. It sounds cute. Listening to another story about how some guy tried to hit on her. She feels a sense of pride in telling me when she’s rejected another guy.


Dinner: Salmon. Perogies in a Yogurt Dill Dip. Broccoli.


We go to the storage unit. She’s hobbling around as I chase after her. Sex ensues. Still kind of drunk and whiney, she goes back and forth between good-natured feelings and self-pity.

Giving a ride to her car somewhere out on Bonney Road. Still in her pouty state because I want to record for the rest of the night. Me: “You’re an insatiable girl.”


“I hate you.” “I love you.” “I hate you.” “I love you.” “I hate you.” “I hate you.” These are the things you say to me.


It’s about 4 a.m. Art is in the computer room with me on the desktop. He’s still trying to fix his laptop. Surprised he is awake.


Eating a bowl of Cherrios with Brown Sugar. I encourage Art to eat a bowl of cereal as well. “It’s the best late night snack.”


Recording at the storage unit.


DOOM.


Sleep 8 a.m.

Wednesday October 20 2010



Just after 5 p.m. I wake up.


Breakfast: Oatmeal Breakfast Bar. Immune Defense.


Getting my guitar back from Kenny at AL&M.


Just past Newtown Road I discover a small European Market. They have Kinder Chocolate bars and the Kinder Surprise Chocolate Eggs (free toy inside!). I gather up all kinds of candy. One of the three 20-something girls recommends I buy a beer each from their respective countries. I settle for a Czech one but ensure her I’ll be back for more.


Art informs me his computer is broken and he’ll have to re-install windows. He tends to get angry when he’s playing poker online. He threw his mouse down on the corner of the laptop causing damage. “You need to calm down Art!”


On the door is a note left from a guy named Omeed in a band called Midi & the Modern Dance. They were under the impression they were playing a show here, which I had cancelled a while back through email. Apparently they never got it.


Ambrotious jumps on my lap every time I sit down in my computer chair. I can’t help but embrace his furry body.


Meeting Chris and Kal at the storage unit. Noodling on the guitar, while they chat about things—sometimes banging on a tom or clicking against the wall. This would be what I call a makeshift non-practice. Feeling lost in thought and disconnected. Kind of peeved that there doesn’t seem to be a desire to work on songs. Sometimes I feel alone in my ambitions. Maybe I’m too serious about music. Maybe that’s a good thing. I’ve seen the other side: the touring, the successfulness of a band, and the mindset of a determined musician. I will forever have this monkey on my back until it is satisfied, until his thirst is quenched, which I don’t think will ever happen.


Basketball with Art.


Margot comes over. She runs her mouth about how wonderful and magical Disney World and Disney Land is while I make a pizza from scratch using the dough Trader Joes threw out.

Dinner: Pizza with Peppers and Onions. Czech Beer.

Watching Legion [2010] about a story where God sends out his angels to exterminate the human race but Michael, the archangel, helps in the saving of a baby who is dubbed a messiah. A B-movie for sure but a good apocalyptic thriller for a date night.


With Margot outside—standing in the chilly air by her car. Talking about possibly owning a house soon. “I’m gonna change things around here.” As she’s about to drive off I stretch my arms out and say, “This is my kingdom!”


I go for a run around the neighborhood—music blasting in my ears—doing more walking towards the end.


DOOM.


Rearranging at the storage unit.


Sleep 8 a.m.

Tuesday October 19 2010



DREAM: Been put in jail with two friends (they were accomplices). The jail is a kids playground. One of the guys who’s been there for quite some time is explaining the kind of thoughts and things you do here at the playground jail. “You sit under this [the centerpiece] in the sand with the sunlight shining on your face.” I demand we find a way out of here. So when the timing is right we escape—running down the street through a neighborhood. We see two cop cars moseying inside a fenced in field nearby. I realize we have on white jail uniforms. But instead of the orange color or black and white stripes, the design off a cop car is painted onto our one-piece. We wait until the cop cars drive off and creep down an alley where two guys approach us in a hostile way. One of them looks like Iggy Pop. “Let’s just hang out,” I tell them. And we start walking and I explain our story.


5:30 p.m. out of bed.


Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Hot Mint Tea.


Installing the chicken wire around the porch.


Felix and Jesse Phipps wanted to use the unit tonight just to jam. I join them on the bass—Jesse singing and playing guitar—Felix on drums. Jesse hands me his business card—he’s a realtor now. Joking about making a “Where Are They Now” documentary on a local band that breaks up and becomes more successful in their individual endeavors than the band ever did. We had to cut the jam short because Jesse is worried about his baby. It’s weird seeing your friends grow up around you and start families.


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

Starting Below [2002].


Kenneth walks into the room. He informs me Joni died. She was our landlord who lived next door. Its kind of shocking news to hear—she was 74 years old. I know it’s probably really hard on him, being his mother and all, and the difficult situation with the rest of his family.


Talking with my mom on the phone for a bit—telling me about some of her interesting experiences with people on the street near the church she’s helping fix up.


Building a fire pit in the backyard.


Dinner: Pad Thai with Mixed Vegetables. Chocolate Milk.


The Russians want cookies tonight, every night, all the time.

Playing poker with Roma and Art. Roma wins the $6 pot.

Eating Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies.


Working on Ableton.

Stretching and exercising.

Watching Below.

Eating Kiwi and Papaya.


While I’m cleaning up and consolidating files on my laptop, I find myself flipping through old family photos. Time travel is possible in the mind.


I decide to go for a run around the neighborhood—ipod attached, listening…Geographer, The Black Keys, A-Trak…breathing the nice cool air…the rhythm of the music leading the bounce of my pace…thinking about life…feeling a sense of control the further I run. I need to do this more often.


More Chocolate Milk.


Sleep around 8:15 a.m.

Monday October 18 2010



Just after 4 p.m. I wake up.


Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.


I go to AL&M and have Kenny look at my guitar—the pick-up and input jack needs replacing.


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


Emily and Wesley bust into the room.

Talking about making a slew of “things better than sex” blogs like Wesley’s www.foodisbetterthansex.com.


Kenneth walks into the house asking for the key to Joni’s house, who is my landlord and his mother. But I’ve never had the key to her house ever. I can see rage and anger in his eyes. He says that Joni got drunk in Nags Head and fell. He just seems upset about the whole thing—alcohol and his mother is a sensitive topic. Outside by his van—listening to him vent. He’s searching for what seems like forever for the wire cutters to give me.


Art and I play basketball. Attempting almost impossible shots behind the backboard.


CJ Boyd arrives in his ambulance van. Andrew Lane and Kenchan perform as well. It’s a nice chill night with a few people.

Louis is frying all kinds of things in the kitchen including bananas and peanut butter, spicy tomatoes—yummy.

Apparently Kenneth was shooting his bow and arrow using the discarded mattresses outside as target practice. As well, a guy who lives a block away shoots a gun up in the air for no apparent reason during Kenchan’s set.

Having an engaging conversation with CJ Boyd about the road life, the individual experience on music and art, and travel troubles.


Dinner: Hard Boiled Egg. Rice with Onions and Peppers.

Watching Archangel [2005].


Measuring and cutting the chicken wire to install around the porch.


Drinking Chocolate Milk and eating a Pumpkin Spice Donut.


Editing tracks on Ableton.


Grapes.


Skyping with Verity.


Sleep around 8 a.m.

Sunday October 17 2010



In and out of sleep. Just outside the door my roommate’s girlfriend is going psycho as usual yelling and screaming—repeating herself over and over. “Why do you have to be so mean to me!!! Why?! Why?! Why?! WHY?!” She sounds like a broken record. This has become a daily occurrence and one I try to prepare for by wearing earplugs but once I’m awakened from such a disturbance it’s very difficult to get back in sleep mode. It stresses me out just listening.


DREAM: In a house at nighttime with an old friend of mine named Csilla from Romania. A few years ago she worked at the shell shop next door to the ice cream shop I worked at on the fishing pier. She’s standing there wearing hardly any clothes—thin black lingerie strapped around her legs and chest—a beautiful sight. She’s pretending to want a kiss and maybe a little more but every time I try to pucker up she playfully resists. She’s sitting in a white chair with one leg propped up—her soft arms crossed around it. Having romantic visions with her in my head. The whole scene switches to a fairytale-like story: Her and I in a chariot being pulled by white horses—a white princess holding the reigns.


Waking up at 4:30 p.m.

Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Immune Defense.


Work at China Wok.

The tips are generous tonight.


Lunch: Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt N Vinegar Chips. Honey Oolong Tea.


When I arrive home, Kenneth is parked on the street. He rides with me and helps unload the music equipment into the storage unit. Then, we go to his farm on Norfolk Ave to pick up chicken wire to cover up the porch with. He’s wearing his classic headband light and showing me the plants and crops he has growing. Listening to his street vernacular is entertaining and sometimes I imagine filming him in a documentary of some kind would be appropriate.


I go out mattress hunting and pick up a few I spotted earlier during my work shift. Kenneth helps haul them to the shed. He found a walkie talkie radio. We put in some batteries and listen in on a police dispatch dealing with some custody issue.


Dinner: Alfredo Noodles with Broccoli and a little bit of Chicken. Garlic Bread.


Margot is looking exceptionally beautiful tonight. I made her play this game where if she could find me without calling or texting me I would give her the ultimate sex package as a reward. Sure enough she finds me at the house—not that hard to predict. An easy game to win. Reward granted.


Dumpster diving at Trader Joes. Here are the finds: Carrot Ginger Soup, Almond Butter, Chocolate Chunk Dunkers, Cinnamon Puffins Cereal, Manitaropita, Waffles, Toothpaste, Eggs, Apples, Papaya, Strawberries, Grapes, Bananas, Peppers, English Muffins, French Baguettes, Garlic Loaf, Organic Wheat Bread, Butter, Havarti Cheese, Whole Wheat Pizza Dough.


Drinking Chocolate Milk and watching Spy Game [2001].


Business and Craigslist.


Eating Strawberries, Grapes, and Potato Chips.

Finishing Spy Game.


Sleep 8 a.m.

Saturday October 16 2010



DREAM: At the movie theater—waiting in line to get tickets. Elliott and Emily already have theirs and start moving quickly to get into the auditorium. “Wait! Hold on! Wait for Josiah.” Josiah shows up and we buy our tickets—making our way into the theater. Elliott and Emily shove through an aisle in the middle of the room—the only one that has at least four empty seats. The whole place is crowded already. If we had gotten here earlier good seating would’ve been more realistic. For some reason Elliott and Emily decide not to settle in these seats and start searching for another row. It doesn’t make any sense. Eventually we settle for a row off to the right and in the back of the room. The screen looks small but the curtains start to pull away allowing for a widescreen. The movie is starring Jim Carrey but I can’t remember the title. A cartoon short begins playing on the screen—a plump purple bird flutters around in a computer-generated background. Josiah is sitting to the left of me. We’re on the edge of our seats laughing and acting giddy about the cartoon. I notice Brian Hall, an old friend from high school, sitting to the right of me. He doesn’t seem to recognize me. I thought he was living in England. I decide to make my presence known after the movie is over.


3 p.m. waking up a little earlier than usual.


Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.


Driving to Fredericksburg for the Battle of the Bands tonight. Emily rides in the passenger seat. Having a lengthy conversation about our friends and other miscellaneous topics. Comparing her move from Maryland to Virginia Beach, to a baboon’s social scenario where a baboon will sometimes leave their original gang or family if it feels inadequate or shunned to join a brand new group of baboons.

Feeling a revived sense of friendship between her and I. Road trips tend to do that kind of thing.

She refuses to spoon my egg salad onto the bread so I make a stop to do it myself.

Lunch: Egg Salad Sandwich. Salt N Vinegar Chips. Honey Oolong Tea.

Getting lost on the Mary Washington campus looking for The Great Hall.


There’s about 8 bands scheduled to play tonight—a unique array of genres too. The room is perfectly appropriate for a battle of the bands with two stages facing each other and two gold chandeliers hanging above each. I imagine a scene similar to the movie Scott Pilgrim where giant musical infused electric beasts fly out from our instruments and duke it out.

We (MUSICPLAYER) perform last. Getting positive feedback and compliments from strangers. It’s nice to play in front of fresh ears.

We take first place in the battle with Long Division in second and a band called Galaxy Dynamite! in third. I honestly wasn’t expecting first place but playing music and being rewarded for the songs you spent so much time on constructing is a wonderful feeling.


Driving back from F-burg. Not feeling the need to play any music on the stereo. Emily wraps herself up in the king-size comforter. She’s tickled by the feeling of it, “I’m just a ball of blanket.”

Stopping at a 7-11. Drinking Pumpkin Spice Coffee and Coffee Cake.

She re-tells her mysterious experience with the Ouija board—leading to apocalyptic discussions on the book of Revelation. I relay the things that were taught to me a long time ago in church and my understanding of what happens after the second coming. I go on and on bringing even more clarity to myself as I speak it out loud to her. She’s tired and I can sense her falling asleep just as I come to these conclusions: “True hell is being completely alone. True heaven is being completely with God.”


Finally arriving home.

Talking with Margot for a bit. It wasn’t a very fruitful night at work for her. I try to cheer her up.


Dinner: Edamame with Rice and Mixed Vegetables.

I have a craving for chocolate milk but we have no chocolate syrup. So I make it from scratch using cocoa, water, and sugar. The final product is succulent, sweet, and rich. It’s amazing.


Watching Blackout [2007].


Sleep 8 a.m.

Friday October 15 2010



DREAM: Exploring a mansion-size house. Maybe it belongs to a friend or family member. I walk through a hallway and enter a bedroom. There’s a few kids by my side. They tell me it’s Caleb’s room as if I shouldn’t be in here. “But I’ve never seen this side of the house,” I reply. Sure enough there’s Caleb sleeping in a green blanket atop of bunk bed. He sits up half asleep. “Shhhhh.” I look around the room to find bed after bed and bunk beds lined against the wall. Caleb: “Yeah you can sleep anywhere you want!” It seems more like a mattress store. At the end of the room there’s a tunnel slide. I jump down into it and creep around the corner. Now I’m at the bottom level of a mall. I try to get on the elevator in the center of the foyer. Each time the door opens I yell, “Hold the fucking door please!” But there are too many crowds of people waiting to board. I’ll never get on. Just outside the entrance to the mall I see a girl on stilts holding a pitchfork wearing a red cartoonish devil costume. I hear her announce, “Ladies and gentlemen, The Lair is closed!” I think this mall is called The Lair. It seems strange that it’s connected to the house too. Piles of people are heading in and out of the building. I run up the stairs and make it to the top story. I notice Mae songs are playing on the loudspeaker—walking past a record/t-shirt shop with Mae shirts on display. There’s a sign reading something about an anniversary or farewell. In the stair hall individuals are lined behind each other with smiles on their faces moving in slow motion down the stairs—some kind of fun ritual. I get in the line and try to take shortcuts jumping through the intricate maze of steps, which doesn’t seem to have any kind of pattern…


Just after 5 p.m. I get out of bed.


Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin E.


I see Emily in dreamland bundled up on the couch on my way to the kitchen.


The cat got out when Elaina was exiting the front door. This has happened the past few days. She’s sitting in Kyle’s car about to leave. I confront her and ask her to be more careful. Sometimes I wonder why I put all this effort into preventing the cat from getting outside. He’s a woodland creature—he needs to be out in the green, the fresh air. It’s in his blood to explore and hunt. Let him be.

I notice a note with my name on it folded under my van’s windshield wiper. It’s soaked from the rain. I unravel it carefully. It’s pink with cupcakes in the background. This is definitely from Margot. “Sorry about last night. I feel bad about it. I love you. I don’t like to argue with you. Please call me or something after you get this. I need to know we’re okay. ♥ your girl.”


Business and planning. Talking with Danny Rogers about a MUSICPLAYER music video.


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

Watching The Living Wake [2007]. “When his doctor informs him he’ll die soon from an unnamed disease…he decides to celebrate his life with a party (a wake) in this absurdist black comedy.” It’s entertaining and poetic. The style is of a kids movie but for adults.


Recording at the storage unit for a few hours.

Margot stops by. She’s incredibly feisty and touchy. We do the sex thing.


Back at the house.

Dinner: Hard Boiled Egg. DiGiorno Pizza. Pumpkin Muffins.

On the red couch with Margot, Emily, and Ambrotious watching Lake Mungo [2008]. Appreciating the film even more after the second time—the feel, the atmosphere, the music accompaniment, the scary images. Well done. It’s more of a study on a family’s grief but with a ghost story and a mystery thriller aspect.


Listening to the girls discuss their mayorship on Foursquare. “It’s important!”


Playing DOOM.


Drinking Coffee with Honey and Soymilk.

More recording at the storage unit.


Reading.


Sleep around 8 a.m.

Thursday October 14 2010



Waking up around 12:30 p.m. thinking it’s much later than it really is. It’s raining and thundering outside. Back to sleep.


DREAM: I’m out on the curb in front of some building. My mom and my stepdad, Jimmy, pull up in a van to pick me up. I get in. I look at the stereo for the time: 1:47 a.m. Trying to figure out where they’re taking me at this hour. Maybe church? Maybe dinner? Eventually we park somewhere. I get out. Katy Perry is nearby. Her manager warns me she will be walking past with cameras as if I should prepare myself. There she is—her face powdered with make-up—lips bright red with lipstick. She approaches me suddenly—her face next to mine as if she’s being romantic with me and we’re sharing a secret—she wants a kiss, on the lips. The paparazzi are surrounding us. Thinking I’m going to be all over the news and people will start investigating who I am. Being playful I go to kiss her on the cheek, but she beats me to it and smacks the sweetest kiss on mine. Feeling a little bashful. She walks on with her crew.


Around 5:30 p.m. I get out of bed.


Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin E.


The roommates are at it again—verbal abuse—character attack—yelling. She screams over and over again, “Kyuuulllll! Kyuuuullll!”


Chris and I pick up his drums from the unit.


Big Lots, Thrift Store, Trader Joes.


Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Kettle Cooked Potato Chips. Honey Oolong Tea. Banana.

Emily walks into our room while I’m eating lunch—telling me about her first real quarrel with her boyfriend involving a slice of pizza.


Recording at the storage unit for a few hours.


Stretching and doing crunches in the living room. Margot and Emily on the couch. Margot gives me her insight on why I’ve been recently having sex dreams with unfamiliar women. She reads from a dream interpretation website, “To dream about sex with someone other than your spouse or significant other, suggests dissatisfaction with the physical side of your relationship. On the other hand, it may be harmless fantasy.” She tends to hold my dream self against me as if it were my true self. “Margot, I think they’re just harmless fantasies.”

I tell her about how a guy in Portland wants to use my song, “Adore You” for a documentary and possibly pay me. This leads to some thoughts about the first girlfriend I was with and I feel the need to share with her. She responds with criticism and calls her a ho bag. I get a little defensive and ask her to be a little more sensitive about it. She persists…


Baking Pumpkin Muffins.

Watching The Haunting in Connecticut [2009] with Margot on the couch—Ambrotious curled up in between us. The wind outside is shaking some of the doors in the house causing an appropriate effect for the scary movie.

Dinner: Channa Masala with Rice.


Lounging on the couch after the movie. She’s acting her usual playful self. I sense her wanting to play in a sexual way but I’m not feeling right, maybe because it’s late and I have recording on my mind. Or maybe the way she acted earlier is still affecting me. This sparks a long and drawn out conversation—calling her insensitive and unapologetic—all she can think about is herself and how pissed off she is or unsatisfied. She gets mad because I continue on and on about it. But I feel it’s not getting through. Her pride and ego is hard to break down. But isn’t it like that for all of us?

Finally, she just leaves—on a bad note. Myyy haaandsss areee ssshakinggg frommm the ddddrama. I can barely typeee. Take a breath. Responding to a few texts back and forth.

I don’t believe you when you say, “Seriously, I’m done.”


I grab some Pumpkin Muffins and Milk, then record for a few hours at the unit.


Playing DOOM.


Sleep 8 a.m.

Wednesday October 13 2010



DREAMZ: Around a river bend on the shore. My mom, my stepdad, and a few others. I find this very long electrical extension cord tied between two big trees and hanging down like a rope. I grab hold of it, running and jumping off down the hill. I gain a high altitude swinging around the tree not having much control of where I’m going but experiencing a thrill of adrenaline. ☼☼☼ I’ve been assigned a school project for a math class, maybe it’s a take home test: a picture frame—16 boxes—each box will have a profile picture of an individual—and under the profile will be data fields that need to be answered—the questions to these are on another piece of paper, e.g., there will be a number like 9 and I have to come up with a sum that equals this number but I am not allowed to use 4 + 5, so I have to come up with another sum instead for the answer. So here I am in the classroom working on this project. Now, I’m in the living room of my old house near Ocean Lakes working on it. And now I’m at Big Lots near the main entrance. I’m painting and putting it together. My mom shows up and steps onto it analyzing the colors and pictures. I just want her to be proud of my constructiveness, which she seems to be. But she’s stepping all over it—afraid it will be ruined. I warn her and she gets off. But then it happens again. Now I’m gathering all the pieces onto a shopping cart and pushing along outside in the parking lot. It starts raining and balancing everything on the cart is becoming difficult. The pieces are falling. I get angry and start yelling and cursing. People are walking by. I feel embarrassed. ☼☼☼ I’m on the second floor of a building with no roof. I’m a part of the red team—we have guns—setting up to invade the downstairs where the blue team resides. I have a pretty nice size gun in hand. Some from the blue team have already made it onto our level. Clearing them out with clean shots straight in the head and chest. I’m at the top of the stairs. I shoot my last round killing a man on the blue team. I retreat back and gather up more guns, then creep down the stairs. At the bottom there’s a white girl behind a counter by the door. She’s startled. She’s wearing the blue colors but I have no interest in shooting her for some reason. I approach her close up and persuade her to make love with me in the bathroom. At first she’s cautious but I assure her my intentions are purely sexual and not hostile. We go at it for a little bit but she has to get back to tending the booth. She prints out tickets for me as if this was a concert venue and I needed proof to be here.


5 p.m. wake up.


Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin E.


I hear arguing over in the next room.


I go to Wal-Mart—buying a Shop Vac to get the water out of our kitchen vent.


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

Starting Lake Mungo [2008], an Australian mockumentary style horror movie along the lines of Paranormal Activity [2010] but better.


MUSICPLAYER practice at the storage unit with Chris and Kal.

Talking about roller coasters afterwards.


Using my new Shop Vac and cleaning out the water inside the kitchen vent.


Stretching and doing crunches.

Watching Lake Mungo.

Dinner: Hard Boiled Egg. Rice with Vegetable Chili. Garlic Bread.


Organizing files and downloading music.

Eating Chocolate Chip Cookies and Milk.


Basketball.


Eating Grapes.


Organizing files.

Updating programs.


Reading.


Sleep 8 a.m.