Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Spring Break Freak Out and the Western Adventure Excerpt 1

Yesterday I dozed and nodded. Then I spent time staring at a stall wondering if I should sit and let everything by me pass away. The door was green. And it was battered and written all over. Then I reached in and wrote on the roll of toilet paper, Mark wore green pants to school. Mark was a model student. Until he lost his green pants. And told the teacher she was a whore. Which, in the case of the story; the teacher was a whore. Mark had lost his pants sleeping with the teacher and she had failed him in English. Fuck you Mark said and called her a whore in class the next day and promptly walked out of the room naked from the waist down. She peed herself and all the children laughed.

---

Today I woke up. I sat around and sort of curled up halfway in my bed and wished I was like this and it was 3 am. But it was morning and the sun was breaking through my blinds. Light is playful; and you get mad at it like a child when it won’t leave you alone. That’s sort of why there is something great about the dark. It doesn’t really touch you but its still there.

Though when I was finally up and running hot water over my head I could see the steam curling around the top and then it was really neat. The cold air from the vents blowing out made sort of a funnel and I could see air. See it and realize I am breathing this. This is good, eh?


Then it all went nuts when I stepped outside in the heat and had to a shoot a man for stealing my car. He had thought he was being sneaky, but in the back seat he was dripping blood and my gun was smoking. All alongside the edges outside where the red paint breaks into sun-dried metal there is a key mark and a dent. He had tried to pry the fucking door open! I pried his chest open with a bullet and dropped him off at the emergency room near the stop sign and green trees. There wasn’t a soul outside. There wasn’t any ice and instead just dried puddles. No water.

---

I’ve got quite a bit on my plate. Norway paperwork and scholarships to take a look at. Then there is a pile of change that needs to be moved from its spot to another spot. And then from there to a wooden chest with an X marked on the top. Then I need to listen to that Killers song and ruminate over the girl in the video who looks like someone I knew a long time ago.

Not quite sure about the work spaced out. Was going to ditch and run to San Diego on Thursday to Saturday but that was given the death blow. An axe to the head; like an apple sliced in two. It just turns brown if you try and put it back together again. So I scheduled work and thought about deliveries for parts and then tallied up what the total would be when I’m through with that. Hopefully a nice sum to chuck at the insurance companies. I want them to buy lunch; a sushi lunch with cold beer and pretty girls.

---

Eye imagining looks like an undead city. And the greens and reds that work from dark to light—going from the outside towards the middle—are like nether soup. I have two love spots on my corona. They are the bites of a dragonfly that tried to force its way into my brain and lay eggs. But on the way I grabbed it with my fingers and plucked it out. Then, without any tools I bit its head off and spit it to a nearby child who fingered the head and licked it. The kid shook and then shivered. It didn’t have much of an escape and sprouted wings; losing pieces of dried up flesh; like dry mud that cakes off. The wings were a pretty dark blue and shined in the bright sunlight.

The child flew away; her pigtails bounced up and down and she laughed and pointed at me.



“You should have let it finish!”

“Na, its fine. You’re having way more fun than I ever would have!”

---

I thought about Sunrise Room yesterday on my trip back up to my fortress up in the hills. It was interesting; I haven’t put much into its re-emergence as of late; god I was last working on it early May. But then I placed an important style point to where I will later go back. And thinking more about it. I think I had that in place but at the time wasn’t ready to try it out; every time I did I was too afraid and it failed miserably. Now though I can chuck a word or two out at the title and put it as it should be. Then go back and tirelessly re-write chapter after chapter.

---

I think I stopped for a while in my mental development; I mean earlier in life. Now I am back on track? I wouldn’t know how to really tell though.

---

We stopped outside and I sat and listened to the jazz blare through the speakers of my car while The Navigator plucked a ripe orange from the mini tree he carried with him. The orange dripped juice down his chin. He rubbed the map and then his temples then his eyes. He rubbed me the wrong way when he showed all of us where we were and where we were supposed to be.

“No, see here?”
I nodded.
“Its all wrong,” and then more juice dropped. “Sorry.”
“Look what about some lunch first. Huh? You all want some lunch?”

The three birds that were in the back all shook their heads. Waving their beaks around.

“Hey look they want to eat.”
“Just like I said.”
“But what about the map and the trip.”
“You want coffee?”
“Sure.” He went back to looking over the map. Tracing his fingers over the pencil lines. He kept shaking his head and muttering to himself. There wasn't much cool air in the car. It was hot and dry. The dust burned his eyes.

I tripped when I was tipping my sunglasses back on my nose and walked from the dusty parking lot over to the abandoned convenience store. There weren’t any kids. Only an old man and his daughter who was about 22. She was beautiful and I waved at her and she smiled. Then I tipped my hat and kept walking on in.


“I haven’t had sex in a very long time,” she whispered in my ear. The man at the counter didn’t hear and he smiled when I showed him the two coffees in my hand.

“What do you say? You wear that hat and I’ll keep these boots on. We make a cowboy like that.” Her blonde hair ran down to her butt and her breasts pressed into my chest while she played with her hand. There weren't any marks on her face and her eyes weren't brown. They swirled green.

There wasn’t a single drop of water in the car and the juice dried up while The Navigator cursed at the birds for smelling like shit.

"You all smell like shit! Eh? Did you know that? Well now you do."

Back in the car we made room for The Beautiful Woman and she wiped her lips with her hand and then shook the hand of The Navigator before smiling.

“We put Grandpa in the trunk with a jug of whiskey and some crackers. Hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s not my car lady. I just steer it,” and he thumbed his chest while looking at me and squinting his eyes. There wasn't a drop of water in the car. The tree was bright green and he poked me in the rib while she smiled. "What about the birds?"





“She’s coming along for the rest of the ride,” and i started the car.

---

ride the apocalypse. into the setting sun.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

k, so i start reading thinking i'm reading about your life, and then all of the sudden something happens and i realize its not your life its your writing. i have to say it trips me up. paperwork for norway??? are you going then???

Julian LaBounty said...

sorry i haven't responded to your email yet. i will. just busy. i still don't know. just working on paperwork.

Anonymous said...

it seems your sister thinks you have a rather boring life. we can't all live in san francisco. keep blurring those lines, cousin.

Anonymous said...

psh i'm not implying anyone's life is boring. i like the "blurred lines." it keeps things interesting.