  Sunday, August 08th 2004 Va te faire foutre Et Le Cheval Que Vous Êtes monté Dedans Dessus 11:37 PM The over/under on the number of hours I will work tomorrow is eighteen. If you're smart you'll take the over, if you have a gambler's heart you'll take the under...and you'll most likely lose. I've spent the better part of the last week trying to think about what makes today different from yesterday. And then I figured it out. I'm starting to forget. I'm starting to forget what I spent the better part of the last year thinking about.
I remember saying once that I couldn't remember what I thought about before I started thinking about the things I'm thinking about now. Now it's all begun to change. Now I can't remember why I thought there was any chance of things being different. Why I thought I could make things better. I'm starting to get used to things being like this...again. In a week I move into my apartment...it'll be my fortress of solitude...ha, ha, ha.
I have a few more shows left at WRSU...I'll make the best out of them of course. I will continue to be creepy here and anywhere else I feel like because apparently I'm a creepy guy and that's what I do. Someone once thought I was the bad guy. I could see it in their eyes. That probably hurt me more than anything ever has. It still does.
It probably always will...unless I forget that too. I never forget a face. I'm curious. Confused. Can't figure out what's going on. I can't explain it any other way.
I'm like the kid standing outside the refrigerator who has to keep opening the god damn door...I'm obsessed with what happens when the lights go out. If you don't understand it, too bad. If you don't like it...fuck you...and the horse you rode in on. Entry posted by urlLink King Zero note [ urlLink Add ] www urlLink E-Mail this entry What's Stopping Us? 11:46 AM You see things; and you say, 'Why? ' But I dream things that never were; and I say, "Why not?
" - George Bernard Shaw I can't pinpoint when these dreams started, but I can tell you when they changed, when I realized what was happening. Last night the mottled dreams from off the beaten path were stronger then usual, but perhaps not more interesting. It started in a twisted version of my old apartment at the Birchwoods. There was an extra room in this dream, a dining room off the kitchen. Four of us sat there around a wooden table and a short Italian man puttered around the kitchen playing with mixing bowls and sacks of fresh vegetables. When he wobbled over to our table he started to list these fantastic dishes he could make for us, but the other three people with me only wanted pizza.
I remember being vaguely disappointed. Then I was in New York City with a group of people who I mostly didn't know and in between coffee and cigarettes there was a midget pointing at the sky and chanting, "Zee plane! Zee plane! " Have you ever seen Scarface? I dreamed of the chainsaw scene. And then I dreamed of that final scene in Seabiscuit.
No, I can't explain it either. Then I was wandering around the campus of a college I've never been to. But in the dream I remembered that I've dreamed of that place before. When I thought about it in the wee hours of this morning I realized that the campus was exactly how it was in my other dreams. Apparently my mind has created this place...and doesn't like for it to be fucked with. Then there were four people riding with me in the car.
For some reason one of the four hopped out. Two of the others began talking about her. The fourth didn't, but didn't seem bothered by it. It bothered me and I railed against the offending pair. I couldn't tell if the fourth agreed with me or not, but it didn't matter because the girl who had gotten out of the car got back in and everyone got real quiet. Then we were in a college apartment, not mine, and not one I've ever been in.
There were only two or three of us until this girl comes in with a much older guy, a much older homeless looking guy. For some reason I thought the apartment was mine and I wasn't expecting her to be bringing someone else over. Particularly this strange old guy. I felt offended for some reason, and slightly angry. I can't think of why seeing her with another guy made me angry, until I realized this wasn't just some girl who was a figment of my imagination, this girl looked just like the angel in dreams I've had before. Now I was furious.
She was flirting and giggling with this old guy in my house and no one else seemed bothered by it. I snapped and stomped out of the room. I saw things. I saw things during this dream I will never forget. Then I stood outside in the stairwell, and she followed me. And said, "You had to see this coming.
" And of course I didn't. I hadn't seen any of it coming...and then it all got stranger. I was in the yard down in Paterson, except everything was in reverse. There was this gang of people I knew with me, except none of them were exactly who they were in real life. There were people shooting, people throwing things. It was the middle of the night, but it was loud and things kept blowing up.
We were frantically trying to get people inside the gate before the cops or bad guys could get to us because apparently they were all chasing us. I ended up hording everyone in and just getting the gate locked before things started crashing into it. Everyone had weapons but us, so we just kept lighting things on fire and throwing them over the fence. The angel was there, but so were my friends, and their friends, and tons of people I didn't know. And we were all just hoping the gate would hold up. The final dream was simple.
I was sitting on a lawn outback of some apartment buildings. I was sitting in a very comfortable chair as the sun beat down on me and there was a small copper fountain trickling water next to me. As I sat there the fountain suddenly went rubbery and drooped over. I fixed it...and again it fell over. On this perfectly beautiful dream afternoon I decided to just let it droop. Then I woke up.
Nothing fancy this morning. Just an answer to a question. Nothing. Entry posted by urlLink King Zero note [ urlLink Add ] www urlLink E-Mail this entry Friday, August 06th 2004 Even Al-Qaeda Can't Stop Me! 1:05 AM "There's 'something' in a mail truck. " That's the call I get this morning from my office.
There's "something" in the back of a mail truck and they think it's a bomb. Which means every local cop, sheriff's officers, the freeholders emergency response unit, fire departments from three towns, and the only local bombs squad...along with several unmarked cars which suspiciously reaked of federal agents camped outside my front door for the better part of the morning. Roads closed off all over the place, I manage to get my car closer to my office then I probably should have, but I eventually have to park and hoof it in the remainder of the distance. So here I come, the 6'3" 300 lb. monster carrying my big black briefcase and every cop within fifty feet steps towards me with their hands on their guns...I stopped walking real quick. First guy I come up to asks me where I'm going and I tell him that my office is the one with all the trucks in front of it and I want to know what's going on.
He says they didn't tell him anything (liar) and that I probably shouldn't go down there. I tell him I got an office full of people down there and if it's safe enough for them, then it should be safe enough for me. I think right then it dawned on him that there were people in the buildings by the "bomb" and that one more isn't going to hurt anyone. His response, and I quote, "Well, yeah, there are some people walking around down there, so I guess it's safe. " Turns out someone had thrown some white powder into the mail truck, and the mail carrier panicked and thought it was anthrax. Of course Hawthorne police aren't used to that sort of thing so everyone and their mother had to get involved.
I'm in the office for about fifteen minutes before they decided the whole thing is nothing and everyone starts to clear out. And everyone out there pretends like nothing happened. Anthrax? No anthrax. Bomb? No bomb.
Mail truck? No mail truck. Roadblock? Sorry can't help you. Emergency service? I didn't see any.
So nothing happened apparently. No one was ever there, nothing went wrong. Nothing out of the ordinary. Of course no one could explain why I didn't get any mail today... Entry posted by urlLink King Zero note [ urlLink Add ] www urlLink E-Mail this entry Thursday, August 05th 2004 Screw Sleep 2:12 AM Who needs it anyway? Not me I say.
So on the drive back from AC tonight I was thinking about a lot of things. I was telling these guys about this script I'm working on (something I don't usually talk about) and it got me thinking more and more about a lot of the things going on in my life right now. Between the Work Bloggers and the people I know I can tell that, although basically content, a lot of people aren't happy with what they're doing. I could assemble a dream team of workers just out of the people I know. A group that, when it hits it's stride, would be one of the most formidable young entities the business world had ever faced. We could do anything...but of course we won't.
It's not because we can't, but because people don't want to. They're afraid...and I guess if I had anything to lose, I would be to. But...I'm not. Entry posted by urlLink King Zero note [ urlLink Add ] www urlLink E-Mail this entry 
