“Life is but a Dream.” (foul language)

Three years ago, in a different life, it was Thanksgiving, . (I remember it being a wedding.) I was a good kid, in a good school, with good grades. I participated in clubs, played in the school band. In this life, experiences were lacking and mundane. I remember in my original life wishing I had did all these things the first time through. I remember wishing I could have edited out all the bullshit. No weed, no drinking, no unprotected sex, no lying, no regrets. But one day, life, flipped the rail’s interchange on me.

Apparently I was 16. Though, I had the knowledge of a 35 year old. I was nearing enlightenment, I felt electric. I ran on the current of life. Now, I ran on alternate current.

I remember waking up late this Thursday of November. I thought it was the first Thursday of the month but my assumptions took me for granted. I did my normal thing. Took a shower and put on the clothes I wore the day before back on, smoked a cigarette and wondered were my ashtray was, tried to checked my e-mail but couldn’t remember my password, maybe I jerked off. My parents were at work, I assumed.

~~~

The door flung open and the annoyance of plastic grocery bags sounded. My bad, my parents were shopping. “Come on. Help us with this stuff. Did anyone call? Is that what you are going to wear today? Why don’t you put on something a little nicer? (Stop masturbating...)” They bombarded me with questions I could not vocally answer, but I answered with my actions. I helped with the groceries, checked the light that did not flash on the caller identification, and I changed into a new set of clothes. I asked, what time is dinner going to be ready. “Oh about five o’clock and everyone will start showing up around three.” My parents handed me more information than I needed. I said fuck it and went with it. I went to my room to think about all this.

“Well, this is rather odd. I don’t know whats going on. I don’t remember last night. Did I party? Might this be some-sort of amnisiatic hangover? Is that turky I smell? Who’s coming over? Why is there a Bon Joyve cd in my collection? I hate that fucker. Where are all my metal cd’s? There is no music right for this moment. I will just go back to sleep. Maybe I will feel better later,” I thought.

At about 3 o’clock a bi-winged plane crash landed in our backyard. I woke up. No fire, no explosion, just a plane. Our guests started to show up. I stayed in my room wondering 'what the fuck'. I did not greet our guest as they came. I tried to put the seemingly unnoticed downed plane in our backyard in the back of my mind, but I could not stop wondering why no one did anything about it. So I hid my wallet in the cushions of my bedroom’s couch (my bedroom’s what?) out of fear of being pillaged.

Two hours later dinner was ready. My mom came to my room. “It’s time to eat and we switched out your spot from the table. You will be eating at the kiddy table and Amelia Erhardt will be sitting at your place in the table.” I just thought to my self, 'good one mom'. Although if it were a joke, where did that come from. Amelia ‘Fucking’ Erhardt? I took my time getting to the table.

Walking through the house I noticed nothing familiar. The decor was of a different theme, colors were warm instead of cool, the walk from my room to the dinning room was longer (We have a dinning room?). I finally made it to the entrance of the dinning hall. It was a hall. Things were too weird for me to care just yet. I stood in the threshold of the room looking over the familiar faces and backs of heads of relatives and intermediate family members. But the back of the head directly in front of me I did not remember. I knew this was my seat. “No fucking way, Amelia Erhardt? This is crazy.” I started getting upset and to pace.

I gave in and finally went nuts. My voice was distressed and spiced with anger and disbelief, “What the... who the.. fuck is this? This can’t be THE fucking modern day legend in my chair?” I got a bunch of calm downs and a bunch of this is our guest Amelia Erhardt's'.

Amelia turned towards me. What an ugly bitch. I would have spit her back out of the sky a lot sooner if I were the sky. I laughed a wicked laugh and lit a cigarette, “This is fucking ridiculous. I am not going to sit at the frickin’ kiddy table,” I said in a mocking tone. I could tell by the looks on my family’s faces that they were appalled by me smoking, not because I was at the dinner table but because I was not old enough, they said. “What?! I not 16. I am 19. What the fuck is this. This is not real. This is fucked up. I am 19 fucking years old!” I was pacing more violently now.

They replied with a 'this is real', you are only 16, now calm down and say grace. People were now standing. It looked like they might show some resistance now. Wait... say grace? When have we ever said grace.

“This is not fucking real, but this is,” I dumpped the place settings of the kiddy table on the floor and continued to rant, “You know how I fucking know this is not real. Look over here. It’s fucking Amelia ‘fucking’ Erhardt. Why the... what the...” I paused, “FUCKIN’ SHIT WHORES, GOD FUCKING JESUS, ARRRRHHHHAAA!!!” I proceeded to dump the main table over and run out, from the fixing I just did.

I locked the door behind me because I for once had the option to. I ripped up the cushions, sat on the exposed springs and retrieved my wallet. Looking through my wallet I found proof of my new altered existence. My identification looked like me and said I was 16. Why would I want a fake id that said I was younger than I really was? I found pictures of me and family at events I don’t remember. I found pictures of people I knew of but it looked liked they were friends, friends I never thought I would have. I looked through my closet; certificates and awards, more pictures, memorabilia I didn’t remember. These were the times that were important to me?

I started to relax and I started to except all this. I started to realize that all these things did not matter. My past is not who I am. The past is just a memory. The past is not were I was. The past is not were I was going. I was wishing for a second chance and here it was. These times were not important to me. These things never happened. But, I realized that I was not in control of the future. Look at were the future lead me. Yeah, I didn’t want that. Now all I had to do was destroy the present, the present course of things. That’s what I wanted to do.

Eventually, I got over it and learned the past and future matter little. I could have had a nice Thanksgiving dinner with my family. That’s in the past now. No regrets. But, fucking Amelia 'fucking' Erhardt?

~End~