Current Musical Selection: -none-

i really need to stop doing this... lately ive been eratic as all shit. some nights i sleep, some i dont. some days i sleep, some i dont. lately my whole world just seems to be spining slightly out of balance... kinda like the washing machine when you put lots of towels and jeans on one side... im not quite sure why either. i havent done anything new or different or had any of those 'life changing experiences' the magazines and telepreachers talk about... no major life pyscho-stressors either as Freud would call them... nothing seems to be really out of the ordinary. just plain, same old, nothing.

again its frustrating; because id like to have a reason to bitch and and be mad over... a good reason--something solid and definite, that i can rely on. "THIS FUCKED ME UP, AND IS STILL FUCKING WITH ME" something clear like that. but no. just nothing in my head more than the usual baggage i bring with. and i cant say that its even it this time. sure i get periodic spats of the past creeping back into my mind, but really not enough that would do anything to my sleep cycle like this. someone suggested maybe im bi-polar. boy thats fun. i doubt it. according to the DSM-IV i dont really have anything else that would clinically diagnose me with it. shit, im probably much closer to the defintion of schizophrenia than that. besides, bi-polarism tends to come in seasons, and this is one of my favorite seasons. doesnt make much sense.

i suppose i could just admit the obvious and just fess up that its life and my complications against my life that probably lead me where i am at 4 in the morning. maybe its man-ly not to do that. eitherway, id im sure my expression of anomie is probably somewhat to blame. all the studying and reading ive done with my life on the topic would be ironically fitting to see me come down under the paws of something like it. i wouldnt at all be surprised if someone sat down and studied my life, that they would find a great that great distance between my intentions with life, and where ive been dropped in the mean time. its probably not that either. but...

i had a really, really bad dream last night. and normally im not one to remember my dreams when i wake up. this one was different. this one has stuck with me since about 4am last night when it work me up... honestly i havent been able to sleep since [even stayed away from caffine today]. its pretty much me dead. hope you werent expecting anything cheerful. i dont really know what to make of it all... but this is how it all went. some of it is fuzzy, but it was so vivid and real to me. i can remember at the begining of it, looking down at my lap and seeing my hands-- and they dont look like my hands. but they are. it takes me a minute, just watching my hands move around, and turning over before i can even recognize them. nothing else is me tho. the pants and jacket arent mine. the shoes could be mine, but arent. the watch isnt mine. i dont smell like me. i feel my face and my beard is gone, i feel my head, and my hair is short. and im wearing glasses... i dont wear glasses. but i didnt notice that i was wearing any either... not until i felt them. its about then, that i remember wanting to scream or say something; when i realize im in a room full of people. people in chairs, people sitting next to me, infront of me, all around me. its not till then that i can hear the whispered conversations, some one sobbing softly behind me... someone laughing to my right. then i hear the organ music. its not real. its one of those crappy electric ones... i can tell by hearing it. its somewhere infront, but i cant see it. i cant see much of anything really. too many people. i remember looking around me, scanning for information... looking at all these faces.. mostly solemn... some just expressionless. and i dont recognize them. some of them i do. i recognize a kid from my freshman year. but maybe its not. he looks older. lots of people i see do. theres a teacher i had in high school.. he looks really old. theres that girl i used to have a crush on in jr. high. she looks different. all this looking; and i feel like im obvious in doing it--- but no one notices me. no one seems to catch my eyes. i look at them, but no one looks back at me. its eerie. so is the music. it seems familiar. the smell is bad in here too. smells like crappy air freshener.... like flowers.... it smells like funeral parlor or incense. i turn around in my seat, and i can see theres alot more rows... all pews.. im in a church i guess. big vaulted ceiling. lights and stained glass on the walls. its no church ive ever been in tho. i look back, and still no one looks at me. some old women is sitting behind me, dabbing her eyes with a frilly handkerchief. but i dont know her. or the kid sitting next to her. kinda reminds me of me. orange hair going every which way. bad looking brown suit, with tennis shoes siticking out. but i dont know him either. its surreal. then i notice the music again. this time i can place it. the last few bars are unmistakeable. they are playing some ' Zeppelin. its a bad organ rendition of Stairway to Heaven. im trying to settle back in to my seat, facing forward again, when i see the casket. im only about 3 rows back from the front, but id never noticed it. its brown. woodgrain. brass hardware on it. darkwood. maple or cherry maybe. cant tell from here. i guess its a funeral. the casket is open, but i cant see it well. cant see the face. its a white person, in a dark suit. light grey lining in open part. still i dont get it. theres not pictures of the deceased anywhere up front. few flowers. doesnt make sense. i can remember just sitting there. all these people around me, and there must be 200 if theres any; but theres no pictures or flowers. and i just wonder who the hell is this person that all these people come to their funeral, but no one cares enough to send flowers. my head hurts. i touch my face, it feels familiar, but its not. its like touching someone elses face with your hand... but my face feels like its being touched, but by someone elses hand... the two feelings just arent coinciding. i put my hand down in time to see my parents walk past me in the aisle. mom and dad. mom doesnt look too good. shes been crying alot. dad has too. but neither of them look really sad per say. dad helps mom sit down. then i see my brother and sister come in from a side door. megan doesnt seem bothered at all by this, and sam just looks frustrated. they look older. maybe 10 years... but not quite. dads bald spot is bigger, that i can see now that hes sitting down. but nothing else looks out of place. i kinda wonder why they didnt see me. just a sinking feeling of something not feeling right. i stand up and push my way over the guy sitting next to me. he nods as i grunt and move past. i recognize him. i know him from school, hes an administrator i deal with. but he doesnt recognize me, or look twice, so i keep moving. i get out into the aisle and look around. there are lots of people, and more comming in. and usher moves past me with some flowers. i recognize him. hes one of my best friends. i say something to him and he turns around. yeah its him. but he doesnt react. its like im some stranger. thats when i started sweating. i try to talk to him... but all i can come up with is something about directions to the restroom. he points with his head to the back of the church. i say something to him... thankyou or something... and as i turn i glance at the flowers. they are black. the tag is open. i can read the name signed on the bottom. why would she send flowers here? who the hell died??? its my ex-girlfriend's name [the one ive written about before in here]. i breathe deep and move out quickly. my heads moving fast, and my feet are slow. i pass rows and rows of people and i see them all, and i see none of them. some i know. some are kids from class, theres a friend from soc. theres that kid that works the desk. thats my TA from latin. thats a guy i used to sit next to in lecture. some people are family friends too. theres our neighbors from 10 years ago. theres some people from my parents church. i dont care tho. this doesnt seem right. i want out. i get most of the way to the back when my aunt mary-ann passes me with dave. they are walking up to the front. but neither seems to notice me. too many people here. its too wrong to be anything else than what im thinking it is.. i just want out of here. i get to the doors, and the guys there look at me; one hands me a bulletin. "In memoriam..." then a picture of my face. it doesnt look like me. but it is me. im older. my hair is short. im wearing a suit. no beard. i look thinner. but its me. my name is at the bottom. i feel like throwing up. cold sweat it just running down my neck. one of the ushers asks me if im allright... i dont say anything. he hands me a cigarette. i look at him. its another of my good friends from back home. only, he doesnt seem to recognize me. i take it. its menthol. i hate menthol. i tell him that. he laughs. he says, "yeah, scotty used to call these things pine trees" then he looks away. i force myself to laugh. its hard. i try to make small talk. the weathers nice... warm, but cloudy and dark. he says nothing. just nods. i turn away. i dont know what to say to him. im just thinking to myself what the fuck do you tell your best friend at your funeral? then i blurt it out. "did you see _ _ _ _ sent flowers?" he chokes on the drag hes taking. he closes his eyes "naw, i didnt... i didnt see that.. wow." i dont know what to say next. but it happens, like im not in control of it.. "think hed have liked that?" he stops, and looks into the church, then he answers me "i dunno man. he probably would. hed probably like it better if he didnt have to die to hear from her though" we both laugh uncomfortably. the cigarette helped. im calm.. but cold from the sweat. my hands are shaking. i call to him by the nickname i gave him. he turns and looks at me; like hes expecting to hear it from someone else... then he stares at me. i thank him for the smoke and i go inside. now im mad. im dead. my friends are here. no one knows me. people i dont speak to anymore, send me flowers, what the fuck happened to me? im walking fast and heavy up to the front. its just building in me. i can see people look at me. thats a kid from high school. thats a girl i worked with. over there is a guy that lives nextdoor. in the corner is a girl i dated once. they all look up at me as i go past, but nothing real. just a glance. long enough for me to see them. im walking faster, now i can hear my feet hitting the stone floor. i can feel the blood pounding in my head, but i dont stop. theres my shop teacher. thats a kid from my ball team theres two girls that live downstairs crying. my hands are clenching, and i wipe the sweat from my head. the veins are pounding in my head. my footsteps are loud now. theres two friends. theres a kid i picked on in grade school. thats my cub scout leader. thats my minister. hes standing up front by the casket. he looks at me. but i dont stop walking. i walk faster. im almost running. my head hurts, my muscles ache, im wringing my hands into fists. my footsteps are echoing. im squinting from the headache. theres a girl i kissed 2 summers ago. theres a couple friends from band. thats my boss and his girlfriend. thats some other admins from the university. thats my ra freshman year. i get to the front of the room. the music starts again. its canned music. at least that shitty organ is done with. its another bad rendition. its the Doors. its The End. there are some flowers up front now that im here. small ones, with tags. red mainly. some white. only one set thats black. they sit under the casket. i look left. theres my parents in the front. the rest of my family going off to the left of them. but right on the aisle-- right next to me--- the closest seat to the casket; its empty. its that grieving widow seat. and those fuckers left it empty. who the fuck are they fucking with? me. on my fucking funeral. and this is how they treat me? they fucking shove it right in my face. if that poor corpse would look out of the casket, the last thing hed see is he never had anyone, he fucking died alone. stupid. remind them all of that why dont you? remind them all he never amounted to shit. remind them how bad he wanted it, and how he never got it. on his fucking last day you do it to him. fucking assholes. no respect. no respect for this guy. and i dont know why im so mad. im not even thinking its me in there. im just thinking what nerve. what balls thats got to take to do that to someone. making this persons friends and family see that. make them see hes not leaving shit behind in the world. make them remember that the day they bury him. make them remember what he could never do. make them remember how no one cared. i look to my right; for something to hit. theres nothing. just another pew full of people. i know them all too. there all my friends.. the ushers. they are wearing black gloves now. sunglasses tucked into their jackets or pockets. they are my pallbearers. they look over at me. but not out of respect. but out of detest. like one of those 'who the fuck do you think you are?' stares. two of them are laughing on the end. "scott would hate this... hed be pissed if they played a shitty version of this song... hed prolly unplug it when no ones looking, right?" they laugh. "yeah, hed want to hear something good and loud man... hed want some 'Stones or GnR" they laugh again..its a forced laugh. but not that its not funny, or that its not true. just that it looks like its hard for them to laugh now. im tired of it now. i stride up to the casket. the hands are folded. they arent mine... those could be anyones hands. but they are mine. i see the jacket. ha! i dont have a suit like that, id never wear something like that... but its got my lapel pin on it. look at that tie; id never wear a tie like... no. thats my tie. i see the face. its cold looking. pale. flushed out.. its got some makeup on it. they do that to corpses... make it look like they are alive. but its not my hair cut. it doesnt look like my face. its not me. but it is. its all me. im older than i thought. maybe 30. 35 possibly. some wrinkles i dont have now. lots of gray in my hair. hairline is receeded. ive got glasses on. but thats me. god dammit thats me! now im mad. im looking at me. im looking at a dead me. its not me. i dont even recognize me. and how can i be looking at me? im starting to loose it. my head is reeling.. its tough to focus on things, i feel like im going to puke. i turn around so fast i almost fall down. i put my hand on the casket to steady my self. and everyone is looking at me. the music changes. its something i dont know.. something classical with strings. i dont know it. fuckit i dont want to hear it. but everyone is still looking at me. i see more people now, some standing in the back. ra's i know, a teacher or two, another kid from high school. id swear thats a stipper i met once years ago. thats some lawyer i know. thats a cop. but im not seeing who im looking for. you arent around. i see that empty chair again as i squint... my head hurts im getting dizzy... then i just feel my feet slide out, and i fall down. im on laying in a pile under my casket and i ram my head into something. i can feel the blood oozing out of my forehead now. it hurts, im dizzy, its wet, but warm... i try to sit up and squint.. everyones looking at me... im on my side and i look over... and i see the black flowers inches from my face... i see the dirt that spilled out of the broken flower pot. and now i see the bright red blood on the black petals. the room is all dark. and thats when i woke up. thats all i remember.