A Harrowing Nap

I am writing this because of the parallels to the events of the last few moths. I'm not going to spill too many details, but this dream has been a mental coping mechanism.

I remember having a long board. I am a good longboarder in this one. Longboards are as fast as cars, though much more dangerous at the speeds which I take them. I ride them in the left-most lane of the streets of Los Angeles. I am race at Mach 1 speeds, my lane empty. Cars move out of my way. Every intersection is between road and train track. I don’t slow down. I can’t slow down. The entire city seems to be going downhill. The gates start coming down. All in rows. In the late afternoon sun, I see the crossing gates begin to close as I approach. I zip past one just beginning to close. Lean to the side to avoid the arm of the next. Break through the arm of the third. I do not stop or even slow down. I keep going, and when I put out the effort to stop myself, I end up in the desert of Barstow, by the wind-molded stones. I am disappointed in myself: I flew right past him.

I turn around and start back, I make it to my nameless destination within the city-limits of LA in no time. He is there--Olive skin, brown eyes, glasses, gelled hair, white shirt, tan cargo shorts, darker lanyard sticking out of his pocket, white socks, darker shoes. He turns at me, friendly, happy to see me. I am glad to see him. We talk, laughing. We see various things. We long board together. As our time together continues, I begin to notice, though, that something is pushing him away. Something fundamental, some force that I cannot control. Our words grow few, our time quiet.

I keep picturing the words “Just Like Me… Just Like Me…” Through out our time together, I flash to these words, placed in an unspecified room, the afternoon sun basking them. I meet these words with a grim acceptance, my spirits dampened with each flash. I fear that I irk him, but I continue to try. I continue to try to get him to laugh. I try to get him enjoy being my friend, and the harder I try, the easier it becomes to bear with what lies around the corner.

I turn around, and he is gone. He’s vanished, but, somehow, I know exactly where he is. I don’t know how I knew his time had come; maybe it was because a thousand others had exited the same way. Grimly, I go to search for him. I longboard down the boulevards, leaving the city, doing lip tricks on the mesas oh the desert.

He is there, on a road that cuts through a boulder. He’s leaning against one of them as I approach. Upon seeing me, he turns my way. There is a Jeep on the road. An insignificant black girl leans against the car. I tell him to leave with me, back to our day, back to wherever we call home.

He apologizes, but declines. I hear those words that announce the end of yet another departure. “I have to go.”

Immediately I understand. I do not protest. I do not cry. I do not get angry. I simply watch as he slides into the passenger seat. The black girl turns to me and spouts hatefully, “You’re ignorant!” before getting into the driver’s seat. I do not turn to watch them turn away. I simply grab my longboard and walk the nameless distance home.

Before I know it, I am home, I am walking into my room. It is a dorm room. College. I turn to my desk. Along the top of the desk, where my bed in the Bunk Bed Combo lies, a black banner reads. “Just Like Me…”, Basked in the Late afternoon sun.

I turn to the sun, peeking through the grated blinds. Words of a song sitting in my head. I do not cry. Not until I’ve written this down. Now I’m trying to keep it together.

LINK:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rl_aC2ec9_8