Makyo in My Mind
hallucinations of the unconscious eye
The half-forgotten
Other half of my short life
In short story form

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Wednesday, November 26, 2003
White Trash Destination

I'm riding my rollerblades to work, along with a large group of people. It's a two-lane road along the beach, and the sun hasn't come out yet. We speed down some hills, probably going about 30 mph. Cars speed past us coming the other direction. I catch up with a largish black guy, who's in the lead. I grab onto him and he flings me forward for some extra speed.

Everyone else falls way behind. It's just myself and Michael (the black guy) now. I guess we're somehow breaking the law by rollerblading this fast. A hump in the road comes up where there are railroad tracks. Michael beats me to it, getting some air along the way. I end up flying way up in the air, getting a bird's eye view of everything for miles around, landing only barely on the other side of the tracks before continuing on.

Our destination is coming up, and I wonder how we're going to stop. Michael pulls over onto the shoulder where the road is rougher, and I do the same to slow down.

Our destination is a very white trash place on the beach. Apparently my office is moreso in the back of it. Michael goes into an open garage where some trash heap is parked. A small white MG squeezes past us and a woman steps out. Michael introduces her as his fiance.

Some other people come out of the woodwork, including a white man with hard plastic for hair. I hear a kid come out of another trailer and say hello to me. Everyone freezes, not looking or responding, as he leaves into a truck or something. They ask me if I know him. I say yes, but then when they tell me his name, I don't recognize it; I only know him as Wolfenhex.

There are some other houses, all with tons of stuff strewn all over the yards, which are a combination of grass and sand. I pick my way through, just trying to travel by.

I get to my office, and everyone's outside, lying in the sand. I lie down on the sand and pull my way through a circle of sunbathers. M's not out, so I guess she's still inside. I tell her I'm going to be late because I need to go back home and get the car. Somehow she ends up following me into a warehouse, which is a maze of rooms, doors, and staircases, helping me with a shopping cart.

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