DREAM: In the front yard of my dad’s old house in the boondocks of Dudley, North Carolina. I’m walking with an old lady—she’s in a white nightgown. (She died in waking life years and years ago. I remember we used to call her the cat lady because every time we drove by her house we would see a kingdom of cats roaming on her front porch.) We stroll along uphill. I’m holding walking sticks in both hands resembling ski poles and piercing a pair of holes in the ground with each step I take. The cat lady is talking to me like an old friend and reminiscing about the past. One thing she says to me really sticks out, “Don’t ever let your dad say happy birthday to you without you saying happy birthday to him.” Thinking to myself, I need to remember what she just said. Starting down the dirt path, we pass the trailer where my two boyhood friends, Trey and Andy, used to live. Everything looks different. The old lady is a ways behind me now. Then I notice the wooded area where I used to build clubhouses with my friends has been replaced with a lake—ducks are waddling and swimming in the water—no more trees. Nostalgia hits me like a ton of bricks and I being to cry uncontrollably. The tears, the harsh breathing, and whimpering feel realistic.
4:24 p.m. I get out of bed.
Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc.
Work at China Wok.
Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.
Finishing The Horseman [2008].
I’ve found myself enjoying gritty revenge thrillers as of late.
Organizing my newspaper route logs.
Stretching. Crunches.
Practicing songs to perform on acoustic guitar for a gig tomorrow at Chicho’s Pizza.
The song “Hound Dog” births itself for me.
Shrimp Sinigang with Onions, Peppers, Mushrooms, Green Beans, and Tomatoes. Garlic Naan Bread.
Newspaper Route.
Coffee and Donuts.
Sleep 8:20 a.m.
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