Drew St.Claire's Blog

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Just wanted to throw down some quick thoughts. I promise this blog isn’t dead.

Rolling through State during the sunset. It’s divine. Some people say if you reach a positive afterlife, you get to pick how yours looks and operates- this is pretty close to mine. Bricks, changing leaves, old academic buildings, cute girls walking around in silly hats, the sunset in a crystal clear sky, a cool breeze, and never missing a trick. Maybe skateboarders that die in the act are transported here- like the vikings to Valhalla. One skater died on Hillsborough street my sophomore year. He was hit by a car right in front of his dad’s tattoo shop. I didn’t know him. When they redid Hillsborough Street, they took down his board memorial (when a skater dies, his homies nail their boards to a tree or light post nearby where he died.) I still remember where it is though. I’m sure his crew does too. I wanted to get my first tattoo from that shop, but I heard it’s not what it once was.

Rolling to the bus stop campus smells like the inside of a Disney World water ride- that smell you get while you’re waiting to get on board Splash Mountain or Pirates of the Caribbean. Stopping in front of the bus stop, there’s those giant metal plates they throw down over potholes. To anyone else these are annoying, to me they’re like giant Lego blocks. Jump up and down, manual across, grind across. Great way to wait for a bus. I have a bike now too. It’s not a skateboard, but it’s still cool. I don’t feel like writing about the bike right now because I feel sick. It’s a tight bike though.

I have weird dreams. Today I had a quick one. I see myself in SECCA- the art museum in Winston-Salem- but how it looked before the renovation. All I see is a huge black scribble/smudge on a wall where a painting should be. What the fuck? Then I start “getting it.” Another dream of mine happened like this- I call them my “directions.” It’s a dream where I see a story unfold before me, with I assume how I’m supposed to write it. It’s a cheap way to write a story this way, by just letting the dream tell you what to do- it’s like using steroids. I feel bad not using it though. I start writing down the ideas then go back to bed- I feel sick. I already said I have weird dreams- I have them a lot. It surprises me when people say they don’t dream- I do all the time, usually multiple ones every night or two. I don’t remember most. Sometimes I wonder what they mean- I’m suspicious of dream meaning sites and haven’t gotten to read any Freud besides “Civilizations and Its Discontents.” I read the whole book- I don’t remember much. I highlighted parts. I should look at it again.

You should check back again, when I actually have something to write and don’t just spout off the first thing that comes to mind. That will be soon.

Listen to This: “La Leyenda del Hada y el Mago”- Rata Blanca, Motown (the entire genre)



Written by dstclaire

November 10, 2011 at 1:17 am

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