2005

 

Day 7’s power trip.

A week ago, I poured a guest at the bar the wrong scotch  and it was a $60 price difference. I ate it, paid the money out of pocket, then decided at that moment, I needed a break from alcohol. It was in the same night I also realized that I am my only regulator, I choose to endure (if any) consequence, I have no one to answer to, and despite the freedom of independence, this is a very empty experience for me. At the end of each day, who really gives a fuck? I can be the worst, I can be unbearable, I can be cruel, I can be evil. Who suffers? No order, no rules, no boundaries. Fortunate to everyone, I have general sense of needing to do better.

Until I don’t want to anymore.

 My dreams are so real that I wake up uncertain if it was just a hallucination. I was watching in horror, my 3 crows get at a defenseless song bird. I am aware that they are natural predators, but I never imagined the brutality of predator and prey. I was abruptly awakened by screaming caws into my apartment from my balcony. I am so relieved, it’s one of of my stray black birds, Ocho. Ocho saved me from enduring a bloody nightmare by gifting me pieces of abalone shell and coins at the bottom of her food dish. I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks. It’s finally here and the feeling is everything I imagined it would be- euphoria. It wasn’t daytime or night, but it is very important that I know when I should expect to receive from the crows that I’ve been feeding for months. Outside while inside, attempting to understand time, suddenly there is a crash followed by a bang. A stranger is trying to break into my home. I am in a real nightmare. I can feel the desperation in the form of a swish of breeze that lightly moves my hair with every strike of the door. The feeling is intense, but I am still as I succumb to impending torture. Ocho screams into my apartment again and again, I am awake, looking into bottom of the food dish for the seashells.

My worst memories are tormenting me as I remember every shitty thing that has ever happened to me. Repetitively, I land in Memorial Park at 11:04 AM. I am sitting against a giant, looking towards W. Sycamore Street. I can’t help but bear in mind that the giant and I are splitting the despair. I shiver and the giant receives, measures, and then releases for me. The clock strikes 12:02 PM.