Roland Deschain

Dimensions of Life
2001-05-10 16:08:13 (UTC)

An Old Flame. A.M. Breaking the Spell. Black Havana

I met what you might call an old flame last night at
McDonald's, where I work. This one girl named LaHone
Hawkins. We "went out" in the 5th grade, in a 5th grade
way. Her and another girl named Amanda Kelley were the
only girls I went out with. I went out with Amanda in 8th
grade, and even then only for 3 or 4 weeks. And I
definitely didn't get any from Amanda. Anyway, I saw
LaHone at McD's. We started talking and I found out she
was getting married in the fall. Oh well, what did I
expect? Anyway, I kind of had a feeling that she had
aquired a number of sexual partners over the years. Even so, I was
only mildly suprised to find--lo and behold!--I felt a little soldier
standing at attention, if you know what I mean. And as sheer
coincidence would have it (either that or Ka, everyone's favorite
whipping boy) LaHone had become friends with Amanda Kelley. I asked
her if she could bring Amanda over to McD's and maybe we could meet
again. The last time I saw Amanda she was wearing a spiked choker
and a pentagram, and presumably practicing witchcraft. Now, I'm not a
religious person (as you may find out in the coming days) but I draw
the line at going out with a pagan. I hope she's quit that kind of
sh*t. LaHone told me that both her and Amanda live in this one
trailer park, so they didn't really move up in their socioeconomic
status since I last met them.
But seeing LaHone (and, indeed, even typing her name, a name
which I haven't written for years) really brings back some powerful
memories from 7th grade, the last time I saw her before I started
going to Rolla Public Schools instead of in St. James. Memories
mostly related to A.M. What is A.M, you ask? Good question. Let's
just call it a phemonomen (sp?) and leave it at that. I may carry
A.M.'s real name to the grave, the only people who know of it are
those who I've told about it in St. James. I guess nowadays I would
call it synchronocity. A simple example of synchonocity which
happened to me a couple weeks ago goes something like this: One night
I was watching M2 with my brother Richard and a Dave Matthews concert
was on. I was thinking about how the next day I'd have to work 8
hours at McD's, and how I need to get someone to fill in for me.
Just then, the band sung the words "stay for a little while". It
occured to me that that would fit in the context of what I was
thinking. That's what synchronocity is like. It's like the universe
and your mind become one for one second. Anyway, that's what things
seemed like in '95.
Last night was interesting also for another reason. I
couldn't sleep after coming home fairly late (10:30) and doing my
homework and reading, so I decided to listen to a selection from my
own private collection. Even since summer of 1999 (the summer I
learned to jack off) I have been amassing a collection of songs that
I record from the radio (yes I know this is illegal!). Just lately I
have been recording a VERY COOL techno music show on the local
rock/alternative station, The Point. I started listening to one show
that I recorded last summer. Remember last entry when I said some
songs just take me back in time? That's what it's like for those
techno songs, such as Storm "Time to Burn" and Mario
Piccoto "Iguana". Last summer was a turbulent time for me. For some
reason known only to God when I started working at McDonald's late
last spring I became very depressed. I found myself crying for no
reason. Over time I got over it, but the music I listened to at that
time became linked to those feelings. Every time I listened to
techno it was like I traveled back in time to summer 2000 when I did
only salads and parfaits at McDonald's. But last night I did a very
unusual thing. I had to break the vicious cycle. So I jacked off to
the music. I had to get my mind off memories and into the present.
I came during this one song that the only words were "Feeling this
way makes me feel like falling". And it did, and it does, and it
will. I broke the spell.
Had a weird dream last night. I dreamed I was looking a porn
magazine while my mom was in the room and I was hoping she'd thing it
was a Newsweek or something. I was reading about this one woman who
was a total b*tch, she manipulated guys so they wanted to kill
themselves over her, except she called it "Black Havana".




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