Tuesday, April 15, 2008

I have the strangest dreams

Last summer I had a crazy dream and wrote a short story to describe it.


I was successfully terminated about half an hour ago.

It all started when a group of my twenty-something year old friends, some strangers, and I were being rounded up by a major news station. They wanted to interview our particular age group about some sort of terrorist tragedy that literally JUST happened 30 seconds before the herding of me, Jess, Rob Michaud, Brandon Seifert and a number of people I wasn't acquainted with.

Knots twisted and turned in my stomach as I thought about all of the things I was going to say once the reporters got to me. I was going to change the world with my words. What I was going to say wouldn't be anything less than EPIC.

However, whenever the opportunity for me to shine happens to arise something always goes wrong, fucking up all of my hopes and dreams. Today it involved me losing my right maxillary lateral. My once excited heart thickened and sank into my churning stomach the moment my tongue loosened my smallish tooth from its gums. I looked around to see if anyone had noticed as my face reddened with shame.

Stupid tooth, I thought, I knew I should have fixed it sooner.

I became nervous about being shown on national television without one of my front teeth and quickly excused myself so I could examine the remnants of my once attached chopper.

Disappointment was the only emotion I felt as I began descending the hill that once promised the recording of my profound statements. I looked behind me as I moved and my friends, still atop the hill, looked as jovial as ever.


I kept walking and scanned the area for a building with a public restroom. Suddenly, the tooth that just escaped my gum line literally leapt out of my hand and began rolling towards a construction site, increasing in size the further away it tumbled. Frustrated, I began chasing it towards the gate it was about to enter. Once my tooth became the size of a large muffin it disappeared behind the site's fence and although I desired chasing it further, I no longer had the energy to do so. I assumed it was better this way. I'd find a right maxillary lateral that wanted to be with me and respected me. I decided it was time to move on.

About a block after I was deserted, I spotted a bathroom on my right, just after a three-way intersection. As I began to cross the road to my long awaited destination I heard a voice yelling incoherently behind me. I turned around to see who could be making such a ruckus. It was the scary old white man with the scabby face who flashed me on the MACS light rail two nights before, but this time he was drunker and had icky-sticky fingers.

He began pawing at me and grabbing my arms and although he was weak, I somehow became weaker than him, unable to escape his puny grasp. I began screaming for help up the hill hoping someone would come to my rescue.

An attractive black man noticed me struggling and ceased sweeping the sidewalk in front of his store so he could run over to me as fast as possible. Relief filled my body as he began swinging his broom wildly at the perverted old man.

Sigh. My night in shining armor.

Procuring a broom myself, I too, started to clumsily attack the old man. However, I was unable to properly aim this rudimentary device and therefore ended up striking my hero several times on the leg and hip instead.

"HEY!" he yelled, "I was trying to help you! Fuck both y'all!" and with that my Romeo left.

I thought all hope was lost until a Portland squad car turned onto the road the geezer and I were battling upon. I began waving at them and yelling in an attempt to catch their attention. They noticed me and blared their sirens as they directed their vehicle towards us. I was feeling good about this until I noticed their guns were locked on me.

"What are you guys doing?! This guy's attacking me!" I screamed as bullets began escaping the chambers of their guns, narrowly missing my ankles.

I bolted, but the further away I got, the slower I became. My legs became heavy like cement and my tank was running on empty. The cops soon caught up to me and forcefully dropped me to the ground. I cried aloud and asked them to stop, while hot tears ran down my cheeks. I wasn't the person they were after. I didn't do anything wrong.

I begged and pleaded, but they didn't listen. The only response I got was "QUIET, WHORE!"


bang, bang, bang, bang, BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!!!
9 yellow dots appeared in the darkness.
Those 9 yellow dots were the bullets the officers shot into my skull.

I know it was just a dream, but that is no excuse to kill me.
I expect you all to avenge my death.

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