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A friend encouraged me to begin blogging again. I dismissed the notion at first, as it's led me to needless bouts with navel-gazery in the past. But it needn't be so, and I need more excuses to write.
Here are some things about me. I may or may not scavenge them for "fiction" in the future:
- Subway Chronicle #1: coming home from work at 3am, I got into a car that was almost empty. I sat across from a forty-ish, dumpy, blue-collar Hispanic-looking guy. The only other person in our car was a bum, standing tentatively near the other side of the car, looking around suspiciously. He seemed quite drunk. As we were nearing the next stop, the bum sidled up to the door nearest to me and the Hispanic guy, and just leaned against it, his back to us. Presently, we heard water hitting the floor. Our eyes locked and widened as we both realized that the bum was pissing his pants. Just then, the doors opened (the opposite door, the one the bum was not pissing all over,) and me and my new buddy bolted up, out the door, and into the next car over. We sat back down across from each other, exchanged a chuckle, and returned to minding our own business.
- It's been almost ten years since I went to Japan. But I still regularly (maybe once every few months) have dreams where I'm either about to get on a plane to go back, or I'm in the airport in Japan about to head home. The dreams where I'm about to leave Japan are more frequent. There's always a sense of urgency as I rush through the airport, a possibility that I'll miss my flight, and I'm always, always flat broke. I always think with remorse, "Oh man, I've been in Japan all this time now, and I didn't ever look up my friend, Alyson." I rarely spend any of the dream actually walking around in Japan, and when I do, it usually looks like a big flea market. I don't know what that's about. I do spend parts of the dream on the flight itself. Sometimes it's a big, white sky lounge, where I converse with fellow passengers about the occult. I always wake up with the impression that I've just let a big, profound secret slip through my fingers...maybe coming out of it with a single phrase that was completely understood in the dream, loaded with significance, but which seems completely meaningless when I repeat it awake.
Here are some things about me. I may or may not scavenge them for "fiction" in the future:
- Subway Chronicle #1: coming home from work at 3am, I got into a car that was almost empty. I sat across from a forty-ish, dumpy, blue-collar Hispanic-looking guy. The only other person in our car was a bum, standing tentatively near the other side of the car, looking around suspiciously. He seemed quite drunk. As we were nearing the next stop, the bum sidled up to the door nearest to me and the Hispanic guy, and just leaned against it, his back to us. Presently, we heard water hitting the floor. Our eyes locked and widened as we both realized that the bum was pissing his pants. Just then, the doors opened (the opposite door, the one the bum was not pissing all over,) and me and my new buddy bolted up, out the door, and into the next car over. We sat back down across from each other, exchanged a chuckle, and returned to minding our own business.
- It's been almost ten years since I went to Japan. But I still regularly (maybe once every few months) have dreams where I'm either about to get on a plane to go back, or I'm in the airport in Japan about to head home. The dreams where I'm about to leave Japan are more frequent. There's always a sense of urgency as I rush through the airport, a possibility that I'll miss my flight, and I'm always, always flat broke. I always think with remorse, "Oh man, I've been in Japan all this time now, and I didn't ever look up my friend, Alyson." I rarely spend any of the dream actually walking around in Japan, and when I do, it usually looks like a big flea market. I don't know what that's about. I do spend parts of the dream on the flight itself. Sometimes it's a big, white sky lounge, where I converse with fellow passengers about the occult. I always wake up with the impression that I've just let a big, profound secret slip through my fingers...maybe coming out of it with a single phrase that was completely understood in the dream, loaded with significance, but which seems completely meaningless when I repeat it awake.