another absinthe blog

so, however it happened, i have got drunk off absinthe 3 days in a row. at no point have i experienced waking hallucinations, but looking back on the nights, they are definitely swimmy, ya know?

last nite, my friend who has the scooter had a bunch of us over for dinner and it was really cool. he made amazing food, i talked to my new homey from miami, armando aka alpha 606, about girls and MMA fighting and we all watched funny youtube videos and cut up. earlier that day i recorded a dirty miami bass song (and another synthy dance rap where the hook is "i see girls in the sky like a space cadet") with this dude. it was a good day. so why am i so depressed all the time? who knows.

anyways, the last 2 nites, like the nite before, was filled with totally fucked up dreams. i really see how it worked for these painters who were strung out on that shit, cause if i could paint the things i have seen in my dreams, it would indeed be "surrealist" .... (PS i haven't been smoking weed, and i think i heard people say that they had crazy dreams when they quit smoking, but i smoked a bunch during the day of "day 1" of my crazy nightmares, so i wouldn't exactly hypothesize that could be a reason, i only just stopped on that particular day, cause of the McDonald's thing i may or may not blog about.)

2 nites ago i dreamt (dreamed?) i was on an airplane, sitting in the only seat that was OUTSIDE the plane. and not, like, on top of the wing, but underneath the plane, like to the side kinda, i could look down and see the fucking ground, feel wind ripping through me ... i was buckled up and in a seat, but i was outside the goddamn plane. at one point, i looked to the side and could see down the aisle into the plane (which didn't seem to be experiencing any cabin pressure problems) ... there were other seats, i just happened to be in the only one that wasn't actually in the plane. i was able to convince the flight crew to let me switch to an inside seat. later, the plane was flying super low, right above a highway, and the wing hit a concrete wall and the plane spun out of control ... we didn't crash but we spun all around up into the sky, it was scary.

last nite, amongst other madness, i dreamed this:

first, Joan Rivers was propositioning me for sex.



we were in a dark bedroom sitting on a bed, and i knew something was going down. i remember thinking that i was down for a blow job, but i didn't want to go all the way, but i was far less turned off than i should have been, i may have actually been the opposite. i make a reference to something and she says "don't worry, we're gonna fuck." i leave the room or detach or something for a sec and then she is naked, sitting on the side of the bed, all wrinkly and covering her saggy breasts with her hands and she has some kind of half-apron thing over her lower half, like covering her up a little, i figure because she is self-conscious of her older body. i lay down with my shirt off and she starts giving me a back rub. that scene pretty much ends right there.

later, i am looking in a mirror and popping all these whiteheads on my face with a needle. there is one on the right side of my face, sort of where my chin ends and cheek begins, and its kinda big, and i end up digging out a tiny mountain of a zit, which leaves a small, bloody hole in my face, maybe about the size of the tip of my pinky. i look at it in the mirror and it looks pretty gross. i go about whatever i am doing for the next bit, and the hole doesn't stop looking bloody, and seems to grow over time. later, i am looking in the mirror again. the hole is now the size of a quarter and is basically healed all around, like a stretched earlobe without the plug in.. i have my mouth open and i can see daylight passing through the hole, i can actually see through the hole into my surroundings.

later, my friend chuck that i haven't talked to in a long time, seems to have a boat, but it is in a giant swimming pool that has all these weird wires running around part of it. i want to kick it with him on the boat, but there are some other dudes horsing around on the deck of the boat and they seem to be yelling at me in a condescending way. so i storm off, on the pier that i appear to be on. for whatever reason, i am wearing a small stars-n-stripes bathing suit and have a stars-n-stripes bandanna tied around my head. maybe i miss america.