I dreamt a dream

:EDIT:
The reasent confusion over this blog post is quite irritating. I want to let everyone know, this post was about Brittany, Not Shelby. The day after this post shelby broke up with me. I hope this explains. Please, post a comment to whatever is written here, not what you think something may have refrence to in the real world. This is a fictional blog, I am an author.
Thanks, Holden

I heard you don't dream when you have some drinks, Well I did. Maybe, In this dream I dreamt about all the things I'm too afraid to dream about sober, even my sober subconscious is afraid to tell me about. I loose inhibitions easily.

Last Night I drank with my boys. Jeff, my brother, and my military cousin Scott It was his welcome-home party-ish. I drank 5 beers, the 4th pretty fast because I knew I'd be awake, alone. After everyone was lying down I got my last one, and I laid and stared at a wall and thought about things that I'm supposed to forget.

It was then that I finally cried. The first in probably more than a month. Its terrible, I hate this. I'm so dry. But my single tear on my left cheek was an incredible commodity. I was thinking "If she would let me make her smile again... If I could just kiss her face. She would know... She would know and everything would be right. I know she would remember. She has to think about it, doesn't she?"
So here I am, drinking alone, enjoying the frustration of my sadness and I cant forget things from more than a year ago. I swear, I want to but I cant do it. Her eyes and the way I'd hold her neck and feel her hair and kiss her cheek. The way she would tip her head back and let her eyes close soft so I could kiss her neck and love her. I'm sorry I remember.


In my dream we are standing around somewhere.... Some place like the highschool caf. But bigger. I saw her with some people, like she always is. I waved to her and she left them and come over to me like she used to, like I was beautiful and she was for me. But then she said "I hate you" I cant recall if she was ever really that blunt with everything. Oh well.

she walks away, I ask if I can fallow. "I guess" she says, which is the thing she does when she acts angry, but still has hope for me. I think. (I'm realizing that maybe I didn't know her at all, and that was the whole problem.)

I walk with her, telling her those things that I was thinking to myself earlier. Girls like when they are remembered right. Are longings Hot? I want that, I want to be thought about, just one night in some girls bed, I want to be thought about there.

Anyway, she let me kiss her. Then she cried, saying I'm sorry that I was so distant, I'm sorry I wasted so much of our time. I'm sorry. I kiss her again, on the mouth this time she just smiles and holds me closer. For some reason then, people see us. People who don't want us together. So I tell her, that I love her but I have to go. She can come with me but I have got to go. She runs with me.... We find some way out of this big building we are in, but mostly all I can think about is her face because she smiles like the beautiful running women in the movies. The rebellion scene.

We get out, and we tell each other how much we love each other and Kiss in an ally. Some how her hair is wet. I think I thought it that way because michigan's adventure is one of my best memories of her. (I haven't been back yet) She was beautiful, and golden looking while the sunset hit her skin.

So anyway, more people started chasing us. We would escape and there would be more, and every time it was harder and harder to get away and be happy. But For every time we got better it was a million times more beautiful then the last time. We kept going on like this, till we just could do it any longer, just like our relationship. Finally we stood like we did when we stood in her kitchen and we officially "broke up" she kissed me and let go of my hands like she did before. And she took her little baby-steps backwards just like in the kitchen. I stood there, and let the monsters take me up. All I could see the tearful/sparkling look in her eyes as I woke up from the nightmare and all the enemies darkness over took me.
I woke up with the collar of my shirt wet, the hottest I had ever been in a dream.
If anyone took the time to read this please let me know what you think.

The tank driver, round 2.

I feel terrible about my character degrading post on The tank driver. I feel terrible that I judge the man, he really is a man with thoughts, a heart just like everyone else. All things I knew, All things I forgot.

Tonight the conversation drifted to drugs. Very light hearted accounts of drug induced silliness on all those nights that the comercrials tell you you'd forget.... Anyway.

At 15 the tank driver smoked pot, all he did, all he was into. The week before his 16th birthday he gave it up, Decided to be done. A month later, all the ones he smoked with got into crack. Now everyone in his clique is either dead or in prison ( know, this is pretty ass-generic, but I believed it, and felt it) When he was seven His Friend _____ showed up to his house in the summer, 4 in the mourning banging on the window of his cabin where he had been living the "infinite" life. Fishing, Drinking, Bond Fires, Girls, being young and living.

_____ told The tank driver that he needed help, he was addicted to the shit and needed out. The tank driver was accommodating. They lived "infinitely" together and ____ was clean for 3 weeks. Three weeks of living clean.

One day the lake life had to take a break (for roommates to shower, Get food, See mom). Anyway, later on the tank driver drove to pick up ____ from his mothers house.

at the house the friend was outside, yelling about money that he owed to two black men, somewhere in the $1000 dollar range. The tank driver walked passed him, going into the house... In front of the man... He heard from behind a sound.
"cap, cap"
He turned around to see his friend falling, right there on the suburban side walk of _______, Michigan. Blood. The two men jumped into the car and sped away. With the image of this 18 year old boy, with a shot in the back, and a shot to the back of the head burning in his brain, The tank driver ran to the door. Pushing _____'s mother back into the house as she is in hysterics.
"we've got to call someone, We've got to call someone."
as the tank driver runs to the phone, The mother runs to the body. Tears, Pain, life-long grieving.

A mother shouldn't bury a child.




After all this, the tank driver's mother, with a scanner that picks up police broadcasts though air waves, knows about it before he could tell it. She meets him at the door with a hug and a kiss, And an offering to share her bed and television with him for the night. She come up behind him, with her hand on his lower back, lifting his shirt off of him, telling him he needs a shower. "you cannot sleep in my bed till you shower."

The next morning (The next afternoon to be accurate). The Tank Driver was preparing chicken to be baked in his oven. Upon throwing away the packaging to his chicken, he saw the back of his black shirt in the garbage, Stained with his friends brain, skull, and blood. Wow. His mother cares. The end of hard drugs, the end of money stress for the truck driver.
apologies to the tank driver...... I Love the tank driver.

carissa byers photography

carissa byers photography

Things I hate about my Flatmate

Things I hate about my Flatmate
JOSIAH! this made me think of you. Go read it everyone (the three of you that have been to this site.)

'With motivation chain' to a melody.'

i watched you with your film and life in delvopment,
trying ro buy a love with a framed shot,
an attempt to get your soul out of H-town,
an attempt to lure those friends from down town.
I watched you as your softness shifted to leathrgy,
turns out your soft bed was your muse,
with motivation chain' to a melody,
"CD jackets always get the best of me"

this is a new song I started writing, its really deathcabish the way that i present it, Ive been listening to my postal service viynl alot, I sleep to we have the facts or photo album almost everynight. Tonight I sleep with the girls from Azure Ray.
.i hope this finds you well.

I love photos

these are from monday night bowling. Something I look forward too.
.i hope this finds you well.

Meet the drunken tank driver.

I'm listening to a 30-something ramble on about his drunken adventures. I think "God, don't let yourself be him". As if I'm not already. How can I look down on him for living what I try so hard too.

"I'm a truck driver.... You know buses... How they sway? Well imagine drinking, going to bed at 5, getting up at 7, going to work at 8, driving that damn semi still fucking shit faced down the highway, man.... I thought I might vomit."

so did I.

I wonder what this man was hauling. Maybe Pepsi products.... Pregnancy tests and diapers. Maybe it was regu pasta sauce. That would have been quite a site. This man looking down for something to "vomit" into, taking his eyes off the road.
the trailer and the cab jack-knifing....
women. Children. Frat boys. Soccer teams. Creating one of those scenes you can't help but day dream about when someone changes lanes without signaling. Or when you see the blow out tires from people who still haven't changed there tires from that last recall I heard about somewhere. Maybe its just me. Maybe I'm the only pile-up obsessive one.
Feel safe?

This first is a burden, then an abundance.

it all started with the event, but really it was deeper than that because really, nothing is in and of its self. I guess this has always been building up. Its some sort of national, no, global confusion that's all wrapped up in this one boys head. And it sort of just seems to infect, and spread and degrade everything that it touches. Its like a lamprey. This child is a lamprey. Some 17 year old selfcontained death squad. I am a burden and an abundance.