Strange days my friends, strange days.
Dreams of violence and fast food. Assaulted in an orange lit alley, submissive, handing over my wallet. Flash of orange light. Suddenly fighting back, throwing ineffectual punches at stunned assailants. Useless. But A policeman appears on the beat. Maybe not so useless. Would be muggers flee and my wallet is returned. We go around the corner, to a yellow and white fast food joint, McDonald's but not McDonald's. Lining up, ordering, all calm. The skinhead assailant from outside makes a thinly veiled threat. Suddenly frightened, my eyes desperately flash to the cop that saved me before. A Reassuring Nod, and the threatening guy leaves. Fade to Black.
Come to in a lounge room in suburbia. Red. Thick red carpet and soft red drapes. Disorientated. Red strobe memories of murder. Red strobe images of brutal axes and disembodiment. Evil red grins, in a red room, with red blood. Then beers and congratulatory, evil grins. I scan the room and notice a family of four, father, mother, two sons, watching television in their pyjamas. Somehow they are completely oblivious to the half dozen bodies strewn around their lounge room, out of their field of view, fixated on the blue screen in the red room. A flash of panic across my face. Trying insanely to alert the others, without disturbing the viewers. Hastily, quietly, cold fear in my stomach, running out of the front door and starting my car. Four other people rush in. The family hasn't noticed. We're going to make it. Two people left. I consider leaving them and start the car down the driveway. Guilt makes me reverse, but panic urges me to leave. My two remaining butchers dive in as I skid to a stop. Spin the wheels as I leave the driveway, seven butchers in a three door hatch, two butchers with feet hanging out an open door. Everything quite as the car speeds into the night. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, an angry father's face, framed by yellow street lights, remembering the numbers on my licence plate. Wake to a wash of cold fear – they know who I am.
I haven't had a vivid dream in a long time. Lately my dreams have been indistinguishable from reality – normal conversations with friends, causing mild déjà vu later. I certainly never have such violent dreams, and have never woken up to the memory of the joys of brutal murder. Shaken, I lie for a while and before long, fell again into a restful sleep. Audrey woke me at nine, I think mainly to laugh at having woken me. She calls again seven minutes to midday. She's early and owes me seven minutes sleep.
My father comes around half an hour later. He walked during his lunch break to my new apartment, which he hadn't seen before. This is the third time he has tried to walk here, but only the first time he got the right address. He kept forgetting the number. So I rub the sleep out of my eyes and throw down the 'cube controller after finishing in second place. We have coffee at a little orange café across the road, that I've been meaning to go to for the last two weeks, but it closes too early. It's empty, but actually quite good – the boy behind the counter is cute and the coffee is good.
Dad leaves and Audrey shows up, and we walk to the video store. Four DVD's for fifteen bucks and five dollars of late fees. The girl behind the counter is really cute, with a really nice labret piercing and a really bad haircut. We chat for a little while; banks are evil, she's broke, but they gave her a credit card and she gets in trouble buying things on the 'net (the share house she just moved into has cable. Cable is pronounced slowly, it's still a relatively new idea). I pay for our rentals and my late fees on my credit card (overlimit. Significantly overlimit). As we leave the store, Audrey turns to me and starts pissing herself laughing. Apparently my little crush was quite obvious. I grin and enjoy the five minute crush.
We decide to have coffee at the orange place again. Its been maybe two hours since I went there before. The boy behind the counter smiles and makes small talk. After coffee, after paying, more small talk. Really pleasant small talk and then we leave. Crossing the road, Audrey starts singing; I think he likes you'. I grin and half blush – he is kinda cute, remember?
We watched Zoolander and Life of Brian. I hadn't seen Zoolander before, and its actually quite funny. Much, much better than I had expected. It hadn't been long enough since the last time I watched Life of Brian, and I smoked four of my day's five cigarettes during it. Strangely enough, I didn't go buy a new pack after. I seem to have spontaneously quit, or at least spontaneously stopped smoking for a little while. It's only been about six hours now, and it will probably be pretty rough, but we'll see how it goes. I wasn't planning on quitting for another 2 months (January 23, 2003. There's no particular significance to the date, but it's after new years. Who really quits on new years day?).
About eight, and Audrey and I gointo the city for coffee with Brian and Shelley. Three separate groups of friends, who barely know each other, and only see each other through me. An insane hour or two at the coffee table. I'm tired and on a caffeine rush and nothing is making sense. No cigarettes. Brian has a crush on Audrey that he developed a few weeks ago, the first time that I introduced the two. Shelley is seeing ghosts and Audrey is having a mild panic attack about leaving for India in two weeks and not having any money. The table is spinning and I have no cigarettes.
Brian and Audrey and I go back to my place and watch Charlotte Gray. It's good. Really good. Cate Blanchett is superb, but she seems to be the only one in the movie with eyes. She has big, bright, clear blue eyes, and everyone else seems to have dull, brown eyes. But when your biggest problem with a movie is that someone's eyes are too blue, the movie can't be that bad.
I drove everybody home, relaxed, and not tired anymore. The craving to smoke has passed, or seems to have passed, for now. I'd smoke 'em if I had 'em, but I don't think I will actually go mad, as I had feared before.
It's time to go to bed. Half past one, local time, and this marks the end of my two day mini holiday. Back to work tomorrow, for one day, and then it's the weekend. University has finished for the year, and I have No Plans.
Maybe the Blockbuster Chick will be working tomorrow when I take back the movies. Maybe I'll walk in to drop them off, instead of driving through. It's been a good, lazy day.
My name is nic. I guess, from today onwards, I am a daylogger.