Phil's G.I. Joe Page
|
||
|
Wait... you're actually reading this?! |
Thursday, January 08, 2004
I had a bit of a distressing dream last night. I wouldn't call it a nightmare since there wasn't anything overtly scary about it. I was in this weird sort of crypt that held personal effects rather than bodies. They were sort of like ornate filing cabinets that held letters to loved ones or other cherished mementos visitors could look through. At the beginning of this dream I was looking through some weird futuristic names (I think this evolved out of another dream I had before it that was kinda like Star Trek), when I turned a corner and saw some scratchy yet familiar handwriting on a note on one of the crypts. I recognized this writing as Jerry Koo's. Now, Jerry was a kid I knew in my elementary years, who I thought always got the short end of the stick. He was a smart guy and a great drawer, but he didn't always make the smartest choices in how to act. He was somewhat an outcast in our small classes, but I still liked him. Goodness knows I got him in trouble more than once and, sad to say, not always by accident. I always felt that of all my school friends I lost contact with over the years, I really wanted to know how Jerry turned out. Just to make sure he tuned out all right, y'know? So you can imagine how I felt when I saw Jerry's name on the crypt I was in front of. I remember trying to deny what I saw as I opened the crypt and found a note on top of some things inside. The letter started "To Beth," which I assumed meant Beth Nusbickel. This is funny since, looking back on it now, I believe Jerry had a crush on Jamie McKeever. The letter said something to the effect that he was sorry he didn't turn out as Beth and Christopher Chik had hoped. I realized that this was a suicide note. It took a little bit before that truly sink in, as I remember my first real reaction was a little annoyance in the fact that I wasn't mentioned in the letter. My ego took a hit at this apparent forgetting of my existence. But then the message truly sunk in and the guilt began to swell. I remember thinking over and over that I killed him, I killed him with my childish pranks and actions which caused him to get into trouble all the time. It was my fault that he didn't fit in. Why I felt that I had to bear all the responsibility for this, I don't know. But I was, and I started bawling my eyes out as I slumped into a heap on the floor. My mom was in the dream now, trying to comfort me and telling me it wasn't my fault, but it was useless advice now. Then, much to my relief, I woke up. I was elated to know that I was only dreaming and a little surprised to discover that I wasn't really crying. I guess by posting this online, I'm trying to get the attention of some of my former classmates. Who knows if they'll ever find me, but I do want to say this: Jerry, wherever you are, I hope you're happy, and I hope you're doing well.
Comments:
Post a Comment
|
|
|
||
| The views and opinions expressed here are solely those of Phillip Donnelly. Unless explicitly stated, all statements are those of Phillip Donnelly. So there! |
||
