All I know

April 12, 2012

It wasn’t the cockroaches and bugs coming out of everything I owned that bothered me as much as it was being caught in her bedroom with no explanation. I wasn’t even looking for her panties. No idea why I was there either.

 

Just an hour or so before (in central standard dream time), I was un-packed in my newest abode. I was happy with my house and my room. The decorations were up and the party had just begun. My ex-roommate came by to return a few things that turned into many things as my other friends returned from a holiday in Layover County and my house filled with new things and it was cluttering and cluttered and my mother arrived to visit the same time I was served my eviction notice.

 

I knew I would survive. I always survive. I survive. It get’s harder as I get older and want to stay in the same nest but this was my dream so I wasn’t older or younger I just was. I was reactionary.

That’s the girl I like came by from Texas and we somehow missed each other.

 

I gathered everything I owned and hid out wherever I could and I was alone. That’s when I appeared at her house with my bags full of stuff. It didn’t occur to me to knock like a human being so I came in through the bathroom window protected by a hope and a prayer. I was trying to straighten out my stuff. Stuff. My crap and the bugs started appearing everywhere. I thought it was controllable so I started killing them and then I looked up and saw the ceiling covered in them. At this point I was concerned with getting them off of me and ought of my hair. The door opened and it was her. Chelsea. She used to be the love of my loins that got away. I used to obsess so much over her but not at that moment.

 

Chelsea was in shock seeing me there she didn’t notice the bugs. I said “We need to talk but outside” as I shut the door and noticed her younger and now hotter sister and closed the door and the bugs were everywhere.

 

“What’s happening? What’s going on?” her sister asked.

 

I wish I knew.

 

I woke up and took a thorough imaginary shower and tried to remember more of this hallucinatory horror show of my mind.

 

This is all I know.

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Angel Train and a Cup of Joe

March 16, 2012

Sometimes I think she’s the prettiest girl alive. She might be. She certainly is to her boyfriend (I hope). Long black hair. Big brown eyes. Petite and well proportioned. I’ve never had a real life conversation with her. I haven’t even physically seen her in a couple of years. I rarely see her post on facebook. I rarely think about her. This has little to do with my story except it’s about her. Carmella or Bailey. The 2 names I’ve assigned to her for anonymity sake. She is still my guardian angel. I only have interactions in my dreams and they are not always significant either. She’s in my life and subconscious for a reason.

 

Her face was the last one I saw before my alarm went off at 7 am this morning. I woke up with a smile. The thought of her always gives me a smile. My dreams of her always give me a smile. Maybe I should think of her more so I smile more.

 

The dream wasn’t anything out there or cosmic. It was a dream of hanging out with a bunch of friends after an unrelated dream. Half of the friends I knew and half I didn’t. Only Joe, Brian and Seth were actual real friends from real life. The rest were acquaintances and people I’ve seen before like Bailey who I choose to call my guardian angel. We were all riding a train going ot an event of some kind. A concert, a parade, a convention. It was some event I normally wouldn’t go to and ride a train to. I was hanging mostly with Joe. He was out of character. Not at first.

 

Joe was his usual self drinking a coffee and letting me talk when I spotted Bailey. I wanted to point her out to him because I’ve talked to him more than anyone about her. He seemed too distracted by the people and the good time and tuned me out. This wasn’t the unusual part. Just as I was trying to tell him about my guardian angel personified he chugged a 5 hour energy drink and as we got off the train Joe ran off into the distance forcing me back in the crowd next to Bailey and a girlfriend of hers that I have spoken to but didn’t know real well. I was forced by the crowd to exit the train next to Bailey. I told her what Joe had just done.

 

“He drank all of that coffee and a 5 hour energy drink on an empty stomach? That’s crazy. No wonder he’s running off with all of that temporary energy.” Bailey spoke to me for the first time in what I perceived as real life in my dream.

 

How did she know all of the details when I didn’t know them all? I was just overjoyed that she spoke to me and said something back to her to make her smile. She has the brightest happiest smile that made me smile more. The damned alarm went off before  could talk to her more. That’s all I wanted.

 

But still, I woke up with a smile and felt compelled to write about it. About her.

 

Is it possible to be in love with someone I don’t know? Or am I just in love with the Bailey that appears in my dreams? I’m not even sure what love is. This dream and my thoughts of her will fade within the day and it’ll probably be months before I think or dream of her again but I know she’ll be back. I wonder what this means. Then again I wonder a lot of things.


Valentine’s Day Massacre in My Head

February 14, 2012

Valentine’s Day Depression

 

Depression slowly creeps into my life once again. My broken record plays the same tune we’ve all heard before.

 

“I don’t believe in celebrating Valentine’s Day.” I usually say or used to say when I was single or dating or married to a woman that would accept my statement of “it’s just a holiday dreamed up by corporations to sell things like most every other holiday.

 

My sleeping pattern has been going screwy on me. Actually my “napping” time has been going screwy on me lately. I just got myself into the habit of going to bed by 12-1 am at the latest and waking up between 5 am and 7 am. Despite my recent long naps I’ve been keeping my new habit for over 3 weeks now. Until today.

 

Is it a coincidence that it’s St. Valentine’s Day? Do I secretly associate this day with loneliness and depression? Or is all just by chance that my depression falls on society’s national romantic holiday. I woke up later than my new usual time around 9 am. I wasn’t feeling it. I wasn’t feeling the day. I thought some coffee would wake me up, pull me out of my funk. I stayed awake and prayed, meditated and wrote. I still wasn’t feeling it.

 

I said fuck it to myself and went to my bedroom with a cup of coffee and tried to finish watching a Velvet Underground documentary on YouTube and have some coffee. Something about my bed makes me unproductive and most times sleepy. I still wasn’t feeling the day and fell asleep before noon. My dreams were vivid and seemed to include all of my ex-girlfriends one dream at a time but there was no mention of Valentine’s Day. I woke up around 2 pm and had something to eat and more coffee. I went back to watching the documentary in my bedroom and was soon off to la la land.

I woke up around 6 pm with more dreams of more loves of the past and that’s when it occurred to me that there might me a correlation between my depressive state and Valentine’s Day. I subconsciously connect Valentines Day with love or lack of it whether I want to or not. Loneliness has followed me my whole life as the character Travis Bickle states in the movie Taxi Driver. That line seems to follow me through my life.

 

I’m a loner, believe it or not, and love to be alone as a result of being an only child. I can also be lonely and isolate myself at the same time. I find it difficult to see the difference sometimes. There have been times in my life where years of depression pass and I don’t even know it yet alone show it. The song “Tracks of my Tears” by Smokey Robinson comes to mind sometimes. I used to be the life of the party and then cry when I am alone. I have a great poker face in public. I even fool myself into having a great time then the depression hits me on the way home or at home.

 

I hear there are many suicides on Valentine’s Day. “A recent poll found that one in ten young adults admitted to feeling lonely, insecure, depressed, or unwanted on Valentine’s Day. And that’s just the ones that admitted it.” – Listfirst.com. I guess I’m one but then again the quote says young adults. I wonder if it’s better or worse for older adults. The good news is that I am not suicidal.

 

These are my thoughts and feelings of the day. I hope it didn’t ruin yours and you had and are having a fantastic celebration of Valentine’s Day today.

 

I’ll see how I feel tomorrow.

My favorite and my last Valentine’s Day present. She even wrote lyrics from my favorite Rolling Stones’ songs “Dead Flowers” on he tag attached. “Take me down little Suzy. Take me down, . . “


Hey Richie. It’s Your Birthday.

May 1, 2011

Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday dear unemployed, middle aged, overweight yet still good looking Rich Hillen Jr. Happy birthday to me.

I love my birthday. I always have as far back as I can remember. I used to like it for the gifts and the attention. Ha. I still like it for the gifts and attention but they fade as I get older. Family stops sending those funny cards with the checks or cash. Friends don’t give friends gifts for birthdays. Male friends don’t. It’s part of the bro code. Parties are generally saved for milestone birthdays: 21, 25, 30, 40, 50 etc.

I believe that everyone should love their birthday not just me. It’s the one holiday that transcends religious beliefs, country patriotism and corporate created holidays. It’s a day in the year that everyone of every race, religion, location etc. has in common the celebration of our birth. I know that I am stating the obvious but sometimes it needs to be said.

Despite my reclusiveness the past few years I still want to throw a birthday party every year. I threw one last year and I heard a friend say that he’s not going because I throw one every year. So does he on Halloween. Who cares? My point of having one last year was to celebrate my friendships and give back. I paid for the food and drinks so it wasn’t about gifts or even attention. Some people missed the point and some got it and some just wanted to see me on my birthday. I was surprised on both ends: who showed up and who didn’t.

I wanted to throw a birthday party this year since I have a whole house of my own (I rent with a room mate) but I have a lot less money this year and I have lost most social contacts. I doubt many people would show. Well, not as many people would show as they would of when I was more social.

I know I bash Facebook a lot but like MySpace and most social networks we get reminders of peoples birthdays and we can post a simple “happy birthday” easily and give and receive a little joy almost every day. Some could see it as a cop out and we should remember our friends birthdays and on some level it is but the other side is that in our fast paced lives (not mine) it is hard to keep track of everyone’s birthday. It also helps with new friend learning their birthdays.

If you share this special day, May 1st, as your birthday also then happy birthday to you. If you are reading this on your birthday then happy birthday. Do something special for yourself on your birthday.

FAMOUS PEOPLE BORN ON MAY  1ST

Glenn Ford

Debi Diamond

Antonio Banderas

Kate Smith

Julie Benz

Rita Coolidge

Jack Paar

Judy Collins

Ray Parker Jr

Terry Southern

Calamity Jane

Tim McGraw


A Christmas Carol Story

December 24, 2010

I’ve been uninspired to write a “holiday” blog today so I am posting something I wrote in 2008.

 

A CHRISTMAS CAROL STORY

 

“Bah Humbug.” I mumbled under my breath to a customer at work the other day when she wished me a Merry Christmas.

 

That’s the way I felt. Bah fucking humbug.

 

I just got dumped a little under a week ago by the latest love of my life, Carol. A had high hopes this Christmas with her. I wanted to be the guy that made her happy this year. Fill her floor under her tree with expensive gifts and fill her empty stocking with even more. Share our hopes, and goals and have the best Christmas ever for both of us.

 

Bah Humbug. Fuck Christmas. I’ve had enough miserable ones to know better. This one will be the same. Crying all alone in front of my computer lonely longing and hoping that there is some fellow suffering soul on the internet to comfort me. That’s how I spent last year.

 

I went to bed last night with that gnawing in my stomach, my head filled with conversation I just I had with Carol and disappointment and hurt in my heart. I’m not sure how long it took me to go to sleep but I think I did for a little bit or I was hallucinating.

 

I heard a knock on the door. I thought it was either my pill filled neighbor or a drunk Patrick once again. I was wrong.

 

I opened the door to see a giant fat man with a full brown beard and long brown hair wearing a snug green dress with motor cycle boots. He looked like me with a beard in drag. An older fatter hairier version of me. He had a chain wrapped around his waist that he dragged into my apartment.

 

“I am the Ghost of Girlfriend past.” he said in a low transvestite type voice of a man trying to sound like a woman as he grabbed my hand and took me into my bedroom.

 

My bedroom had changed. For one thing it was clean and organized for the first time since Belle moved out. It looked exactly the same as it once did when Belle and I were happy together. There were two figures in the bed. I was freaked out. What happened to my room and who were these people in my bed? I thought of the scene in Back To The Future 2 when Marty went back in his house and there was a little black girl in his bed. I knew this was a dream. Right?

 

“This is what it was.” he said.

 

I looked at the couple spooning on the bed and realized that it was me and Belle. I was smiling. So was she. We were happy. I vaguely remembered us being happy.

 

“This is what you left.” he said to me.

 

I did. I dumped her for another. I dumped her out of my craziness. I dumped her when we had so much potential.

 

The fat transvestite waved his hand in front of my face and my head went into a fast montage of happy times I had with Belle. It was the way I’ve heard people with near death experiences describe their life flashing in front of their eyes. Trips to art exhibits, movies, dinners, just laying in bed talking. All the things that Belle and I did together. I felt her. I smelled her. I loved her. I smiled then cried. This was just a dream, right?

 

“Follow me.” the Ghost of Girlfriend Past said as he walked into my living room.

 

The living room looked the same maybe even messier with two people on my couch having sex. It was Carol and I on the long couch. The smiles on our faces were huge. I watched us finish and cuddle afterwards. We were happy.

 

He waved his plump hairy hand in front of my face and another montage flashed before my eyes. Watching movies. Not watching movies. Dinners. Carol and I having long talks on her couch and my couch about life and our future together. Sex on her couch, my couch, our beds. The cuddling. The affection. The look in her eyes when she looked at me and the way it made me feel. Those beautiful eyes. Ahh. Carol. She felt like my first love. As if no other existed. I felt everything all over again at that moment.

 

“Would you like a quicky big guy?” the Ghost of Girlfriend Past broke the spell.

 

I woke up back in my messy room with the covers half on and half off like I always do. I sat up and lit a cigarette and took a piss. I didn’t want to go back to bed after that nightmare.

 

Tap. Tap. Tap. I heard a tapping on the bathroom window that is above the bathtub. It scared the shit out of me. I tried to ignore it and go back to bed. It kept getting louder and more intense. I pulled the covers over my head.

 

I thought of Edgar Allan Poe for some reason.

 

As of someone gently rapping, rapping on my bathroom window. “Tis some visitor,”I muttered “tapping at my bathroom window- Only this, and nothing more.”

 

I got up and went towards the bathroom. The tapping kept coming. I had no idea what to expect. A murderer perhaps? A robber? A bird? I stood in the bathtub and opened the window and it was a small Asian girl on her tippy toes smiling.

 

“Come outside.” she whispered .

 

“What? Who are you?” I asked.

 

“I am Ghost of Girlfriend present. Come outside.”

 

This had to be a dream so I had no problem meeting her outside. She was so small and wore a dress that seemed to best fit a hooker. Tight fitting sequin short dress. She stood there bare foot holding a tiny torch with her tiny left hand.

 

“Look upon me” she said as she grabbed my left hand with her right and we took off into the dark sky. This is what it’s like to fly, I thought. She pointed the torch in each direction we moved.

 

I watched as we flew towards the town of my ex-girlfriend, Jesse in New Jersey. We flew towards her house and landed outside the window.

 

“What am I doing here Ghost? Why have you lead me here?” I asked

 

“Just look inside”

 

I peeked inside her window the way I did when we used to play “peeping Tom” way back when except this time I kept my pants on and she didn’t know that I was looking. Jesse appeared at the window and looked right through me her eyes filled with tears. I was invisible to her. I saw and felt her pain. I wanted to reach out and touch her. Comfort her in some way.

 

“She has been rejected once again just like when you rejected her.” the ghost said to me.

 

I looked at her large greenish brown eyes and started to cry feeling her pain and my own guilt for leaving her.

 

The ghost took me to Pennsylvania next to check up on Belle. As we got close to her house I started to get anxious. I’d never seen her place before. It was a shitty looking apartment in a broken down house. I hyperventilated as we walked right through the door without even opening it to find Belle on her couch painting a landscape in front of the Television. I wasn’t phased that I could walk through doors especially after we were flying. Her place was decorated similarly to the way my apartment was when we lived together except she had more photographs of me of everywhere. Everywhere. Tears filled her wide brown eyes as she took a break from her painting to reflect. It was just as sad of a sigh as seeing Jesse.

 

“Why here?” I asked.

 

“Another heart you broke. She still can’t get over you.” the ghost of girlfriend present said.

 

*poof*

 

We vanished from Belle’s and reappeared in Carol’s house. She was on the phone.

 

“I still really love him. He just wasn’t what I was looking for. He’s a great guy but he wouldn’t have been able to take care of me. He couldn’t fill my needs. I’m tired of settling for guys that won’t be able to take care of my needs and I’m tired of losing incredible friendships because the relationship ends. I want so bad to be his friend and keep the good stuff that we had but I’m afraid he will always want more or not want to be friends with me. ” Carol said on the phone. Her eyes teared slightly.

 

“He makes me happy.” she continued. “I don’t want to get emotionally tangled up with someone that I know I don’t have a future with again. Too bad we can’t still have sex. Ha ha ha” she laughed.

 

“This is your girlfriend present. Or your ex-girlfriend present. This is how she feels and what she wants.” the ghost said.

 

Somehow, hearing her say that she loves me took away the hurt I was feeling. Knowing that she wants me makes me feel better. Hmmm.

 

“You want a happy ending now, Joe?” the hot Asian Ghost of Girlfriend Present asked.

 

“Uh. Well. . . ”

 

I awoke again in my bed. My snoring woke me up this time. I thought about how my snoring really bothered Carol. I looked at the clock and it was 4 am. Am I ever going to get to sleep for the rest of the night? I went to the kitchen and put on the hot water to make some Sleepy Time Tea. Yes, I drink the stuff. It actually works on occasion. I lit another cigarette and sat on the couch. I heard coughing in the dark.

 

I turned on the light and the gagging voice got louder.

 

“Turn off the light. Ah heh. .” the voice cleared her throat. And coughed again

 

I was onto it now. I was onto the tricks of these reappearing ghosts. I turned off the light.

 

“You must be the ghost of Christmas Future. Hi, I’m Rich Hillen Jr.” I said sarcastically.

 

“I know who you are.” said the ghost.

 

I looked close in the darkness and tried to see what she looked like. My eyes were still adjusting but I could swear she looked like Joanna Angel the porn star of such classics as XXXorcist and Re-Penetrator from Burning Angel Video. She was dressed in only black panties and a black bra with black heels. Now I know this is a dream. Right?

 

“Are you . . .?”

 

“Joanna Angel? Yes. This is my part time gig. When I’m not doing anal on film or making appearances at local porno shops I am the Ghost of Girlfriend Future.” she said.

 

This ghost thing is pretty cool. I thought to myself. Yeah, I was real confused as to what message I was getting out of all of this but I got to hang out with a Fat hairy transvestite, an Asian prostitute and a porn star.

 

“Where to now?” I asked.

 

Follow me. We walked outside to a black Lincoln Town car stretch Limousine. I climbed in the back seat with her.

 

“Driver. Take us to the Future of what might have been.” she ordered the driver.

 

The limousine speed off into the night and I got nauseous as we screeched to a halt in front of a mansion. The Mail box read “Hillen Family”.

 

“This is what might have been if you stayed with Carol.”

 

I followed my hot ghost trying not to stare at her firm ass and long legs into the mansion. Her heels clicked the way.

 

There I was. A seventy year old Rich in a wheelchair on a respirator reading comic books when a 58 year old Carol came in screaming. I was bald and wrinkled and over weight. She was still beautiful from the plastic surgery and hair dye but she was really fat.

 

“You just couldn’t accept the break up 30 years ago, could you? You had to guilt me into staying with you having the stupid performance art wedding and having kids that turned out to be fat depressed losers. I wish I never met you, Rich Hillen Jr. I wish you were dead! ” the future Carol screamed.

 

“This is what would have happened if you and Carol had a future together. You thought by making millions of dollars you could make Carol happy. She stayed with you out of guilt after you were crippled in a car accident when you were showing off how fast your completely restored 1982 Delorean could go not long after your first child was born. Your kids grow up with no ambition. No personality. No artistic interest or political interest which disappointed both you and Carol. ” The Ghost of Girlfriend Future said.

 

“Damn. That’s fucked up. Is there more?” I asked.

 

“Just one more thing.” the Ghost of Girlfriend Future porno star kissed me deep with tongue. “Do you want some . . .?”

 

My alarm went off and woke me up. I was exhausted. I could barely get out of bed. Did that really happen? The dreams seemed so real. I’ve never had dreams that picked up where the other one left off before. I made coffee and smoked a bunch of cigarettes while I tired to shake the dreams out of my head. It was just a dream? Right? Either way, what am I supposed to learn from all of this?

 

Well, I have gratitude for what I’ve had. I’ve had some great relationships with some great memories. I’m lucky to have loved and lost than .blah blah blah . . .you know the rest. Although, I’ve caused sadness to some of my ex-girlfriends I managed to leave Carol with some good memories and mutual respect. My visits to the past present and future helped me see this.

 

Through all the pain I feel about Carol dumping me, she was right and we wouldn’t have worked out. I now know that she loves me and loved what we had. That makes me feel good despite the feeling of loss. Loss. I didn’t lose. I gained a friend. Maybe we should still get together for Christmas. Merry Christmas Carol.

 

But I sure do wish I remembered if I did anything sexual with the transvestite, the Asian hooker and the porno star. Maybe they’ll come back as Ghosts of Employers tomorrow night.

 


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