...ish

just one kid...and he's been on the block a long time

(04/17/2003; 03:09pm) - just one kid...and he's been on the block a long time

i can't stop dreaming about joey mcintyre. i don't even know why he's in my head. but for the past three nights he's turned up in my dreams. this wouldn't be so disturbing if the dreams weren't so cryptic. i'd rather be having sex with him, or fighting him, or something that would mean he symbolized something like my latent homosexuality or agression towards my catholic upbrining, but alas, nothing of that sort has materialized. instead, we just chat. i talk to him about his career, we trade recepies, chat women, and men, and life, and the world, then i wake up. but when i wake up i don't feel refreshed. i feel disturbed, deeply disturbed. i can't shake the feeling that i've been doing something wrong. i fear going back to sleep. i sweat. i tremble. "get out of my head. you're not my friend, joey mcintyre! we're not yentas, knitting over tea! i didn't invite you. i don't want you here. you weren't even my favorite new kid. i'm a donny man!" but he will not answer my pleas. instead he arrives in my dreams as soon as i return to sleep. and my sleeping personality has no idea how much i loathe these encounters, and he chats away with joey mcintyre endlessly. my waking personality is trapped in my own head, forced to watch it happen, like an infomercial when NOTHING else is on. i'm at the mercy of a nameless force falling deeper and deeper into petty conversational darkness. perhaps this is a harbinger of death. in many ways i've always assumed death would look something like joey mcintyre. his boyish good looks much more haunting than the empty darkness the hood of the reaper reveals, his bright eyes and candy cheeks only to be seen by those he chooses to take with him to the other side. maybe so. maybe this is the end. or maybe i should stop eating chee-toes before bed.