Last night I dreamt that in earlier in the year, at my home in Arlington Mass, I accidentally killed and then covered up the killing of my old roommate, Travis “T-Bird” Poston. I dreamt that while taking a Jog down one of the many steep hills in The Heights, the area of Arlington I grew up in, zombie Travis was trying to make me feel better about bringing a rock down on his head in February, and then burying the body in some remote location I couldn’t quite recall in the dream. “Man”, he said to me, in that slow hop-run you do when going down steep-hills, “If anyone was asking to be taken out it was me”, forcing me to recall the whole incident for the first time in a long time.
I remember thinking that maybe his death was the cause of all my bad 2007 karma, which, compared to 2006, has been a shit year. Momentarily shelving the guilt accompanied by this revelation I remember thinking that maybe that’s the reason my luck has been off - It all took a turn for the worse when by some hedges I crushed his skull.
And then I woke up. Feeling guilty as hell about killing my friend at first, but then relieved in the “or COURSE it was a dream” way when after the 48-second haze between sleep and wake, I realized that I hadn’t actually committed murder and had for all intensive purposed saved Travis’s life.
But then realized that very-much-alive Travis still owes me 600 bucks from six years ago, and if I ever want to see it might want begin looking for some large rocks.
