September 20, 2010

  • Slow Night, So Long

    My life fades. The vision dims.  All that remains are memories...
    But even they can't be trusted.  I've been having a bit of a progressing problem lately where my dreams get confused with real life.  Mainly on the memory side of things.  I'll think about something and whether or not it happened then I'll figure out I just dreamt it. 

    It's alright though. My memory is still very strong, just inaccurate.  Like a big-armed QB who can't hit his target.

    No one wants to hear about your dreams unless you dream about them, but last night I had an epic two-part nightmare.  I say it's too parts because I woke up at around 2:00, got water, shook it off a bit, and fell back asleep to some more of it.  Vivid as hell these.  Sometimes I think more vivid than my real life.

    One thing I have is an incredibly powerful connection between memory and smell.  I can smell something and get a memory, or even think of a memory and conjure up the smell.  It's like a superpower with no tangible benefit.

    Today some Ben Folds Five from their album "Whatever and Ever Amen" came on and the taste of Jack in the Box tacos came to me.  It's a corrolation made from the summer of my sophomore year of high school, one of the most memorable summers I've ever had.  I was still less than 16, thus no driving, but I had known this dude who was a bit older and could drive.  Then there was this girl a couple of years older who I was totally crushed on, and she'd hang out too.

    We'd drive around, listen to Ben Folds Five, and usually end up going to Jack in the Box for some 2 for $1.00 tacos.  That was a good summer, especially when there was a stretch that I had the house to myself.  Playing games, hanging around the town, getting an air of independence.  Long before I learned independence is sourly overrated.

    But that lives now, only in my memories.