Minimalistic At Best...

Being the adventures of a young man whose principal interests are creativity, ultra-violence and Mario

8.29.2004

"The twists and turns of a performer..."

I promised I'd write in this thing every day but that didn't work too well. I'm going to try writing about last night though...

So Mike, Amanda, Jason, Joey, Roxanne and Myself decided to get drunk before Mike and Roxanne left to go back to SoFla. We got the Liquor and had a great time, until everything went kind of bad. Roxanne and Joey both got sick, but Joey did first. Unfortunately a couple of things happened that naturally got me a little upset/sad/jealous/pathetic/mad. But it meant nothing...I know it meant nothing. I spent 2+ hours sitting with Roxanne while she was sick in Jason's bathroom. Manda and I were constantly rubbing her back, her head, and making sure she didn't get hurt while she was sick. Each time Amanda left the room I would end up holding Roxy in my arms, with her head on my shoulder. While rubbing her back, I couldn't help but think that in her drunken state, she had inadvertently put us the closest we've ever been with each other. All I could keep thinking about was how much I cared for her and how much I loved her. A part of me wishes she could remember what happened in the bathroom only to realize how much I (and other people) really care for her...God. I'm so pathetic. It was a very strange night, and being in that bathroom that night was one of the most profound and meaningful experiences I've ever had...as strange as it sounds.

And when she left this morning. I said, "I love you" for the first time. Sure I've typed it, and said it on her voice mail before, but its never been said to her, in person. I meant it more than anything. I love her in a million different ways. So however she takes it, I hope it's positive. That moment meant a lot to me.

On and off between these moments, I took advantage of my drunken state by talking to Amanda about a lot of different things, and I never really like hearing the truth sometimes, lets put it that way. But I enjoyed talking to her, I always do.

After that whole ordeal, I set up an extra bed in my room where Roxanne could sleep next to Amanda, and me in case she needed help. The alcohol in my system provided some pretty strange and deep dreams. My subconscious took over...

These were my dreams:

I was in an apartment, and I thought I heard thunder, but I soon realized the building above me was exploding, and there were sounds of electric arching and explosions. It was very scary, and I heard people screaming and running out of the buildings. Eventually, my apartment was falling apart with fire and electricity surging throughout. I had to get out of the apartment, going through mazes of surging electricity. I grabbed my cat, and ran out the door, only to find emptiness. There was no one out there. I turned around, and heard a SWAT-team member (or something like that) yell at me to get down. Before I could, I looked up and to the right and saw an open electricity circuit that was shooting out electric blasts. One hit the ground inches in front of me and I was thrown a number of feet. I was hurt.

Fast forward to outside, where it’s raining. I’m on my way to a friend’s party. I make it inside, and there are lots of people. I ask around (since I’m not too coherent, even in the dream) and it turns out that there are a few bands playing, and everyone’s getting tipsy. I also find out the parents of the kid are out getting video equipment. In a group setting, I try telling everyone how I almost died from the electric blasts. I was recounting the previous dream as if it was something that happened just the night before. Everyone keeps laughing at me and ignoring my words, so I get angry and leave the room. I start playing my own music through the stereos at the party, and everyone is a little annoyed. Eventually, I meet a girl. She looks like Roxanne, and acted like her, but she doesn’t have the life Roxy has. She seems tired, afraid and uneasy. She looks worn thin, and unhappy. But we start talking to each other, and laughing with each other. Throughout the course of the night we get close. I decide I want to leave with her, but I’ve found out that the person throwing the party is boarding the doors and windows shut so no one can leave. This angers me, and I grab Roxanne by the hand and start running toward an exit. I hear wood being nailed to the doors. The door I get to is nailed shut, but not completely finished. I start kicking the door, and ramming it with my shoulder. I break through and take Roxanne with me. People are yelling at me for leaving, but I don’t care. I get in my car with her, and I drive away.

We’re driving down the street, and I take a turn down a road that is covered with downed trees. Like the Flinstones, I raise my car up and use my feet to guide the car where it needs to go (as to not damage the car) I make it to a house that has a drawbridge-esque driveway (it goes over the water that’s outside). It’s Roxanne’s house. Her and I go inside and lay down in her room. It’s nothing more then laying together on the same bed, but it’s intimate. We’re happy together laying there…it seems that everything that troubles her she forgets for those few minutes…But then people arrive home and she immediately gets scared. Her parents are home and she is afraid of them. They seem (to me anyway) like drunk, mean, dirty people, and I try and sneak her out. Once we get outside, I try and convince her to leave with me. She’s crying, and afraid. I’m very sad, almost completely in tears. I tell her there’s nothing left for her here. I find out that they’re whoring her out for money, and I get very angry, ridiculously angry. I remember hearing the parents screaming for her inside, while her and I were in each other’s arms outside, in the rain. I kept telling her she needed to leave them and come with me.

And then I woke up.

So other than all this, I'm doing okay I guess. I don't want it to seem like I'm obsessed with her, but I can't help what my subconscious puts me through...I just can't.

I love that girl so much. And I always hopes she knows it. And I hate to think she's frustrated or annoyed by my feelings, because that just makes me feel bad.

Whatever...time to stop writing.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home