Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Dreams/Spring Break 2010/Some Writing

The other night I dreamt that my sister and I had to kill a bull and butcher it. We cut it open and we kept pulling weird things out of it. Potatoes were growing inside of it. Someone said, "Those grow in there to help its digestion." All of the organs looked like gourds. I finally pulled out the thing that was supposed to be its heart, but it was surrounded by something that seemed like clay or cement. I broke the clay or cement and said, "See? This is the heart." I woke up thinking I was going to die. 2 nights in a row I woke up thinking I was dying. This happens kind of a lot. I wish it didn't.


I am going to Death Valley for spring break with my dad, my sister, my uncle (who is my dad's friend from high school and was in Vietnam [and was apparently wounded in Vietnam , though I only found this out recently]) and their friend (who was in Vietnam with my uncle, who is my dad's friend from high school). My dad and my uncle (who is my dad's friend from high school) almost signed up to go to Vietnam together, but my grandparents (who are my father's parents) talked my dad out of it. My dad also thought about signing up to fly jets, but he couldn't because he has astigmatism. They told him he could fly helicopters. I can imagine him saying, "fuck that." It's funny, because my dad has flown airplanes for a living for the past 40 years. He contracts for the Forest Service and flies when there are forest fires. He flies the person around who coordinates all the firefighters.


I'm happy to be leaving Portland for a while. For such a large city, Portland is the loneliest place I've ever lived. At times, this city has made me feel like a Desperate Person. This winter, I thought I was developing a Meaningful Relationship with someone. I don't know whether it's the city's fault or not, but the Meaningful Relationship turned out to be just in my head. And I didn't really even develop a Meaningful Relationship with myself. What weird shit. I have since deleted her phone number so I don't bother her with drunk text messages. I hope that makes me an Okay Person.


I am writing little fiction pieces that look like poems. Here are a few:


She needs this to delay
whatever is coming at her next.
Probably a train, shot from
a train gun. If she can’t get it,
she’ll probably just watch season three
of Mad Men and wait for her body
to crumble or recycle.
Whatever it’s called.


The list of online friends
is a ladder whose rungs
will vanish as soon as
you type “what up.”


She likes chicken on her salad.
She hates the impermanence of lettuce.
She has thoughts like, “I can feel it
moving through me. My body is a
level of Donkey Kong.”
Okay, not the Donkey Kong thing.


紀錄 said...


DJ Berndt said...

Nice. This is good stuff. Excellent job.

Bryan Coffelt said...

Thanks! You are a champion for reading my blog.

Annie Lo said...

You need to start lucid dreaming.