Dreams of Fish
Fragments
The Seven Deadly Social Sins
My Enemy
San Francisco, Strippers, and Satan
New Town
Interviews with the People in My Neighborhood
First Dateh
Reunion
Tasty Recipes
Job Search, Pt. 1
Republic, Pt. 2
Scientology
The Girl Who Works at Tower Records on Thursday Afternoons
Meat Market
Fun Pranks
My Best Friend is My Dentist
Tips For Scoring With the Ladies...
Found a few english papers for Write My Essay For Me For Free high level.
My whole life is currently built around fish. When I am not thinking about anything in particular, I think about catching fish. When I am hungry, I invariably want to eat some kind of fish. When I have money, I spend it on fish or on fishing equipment.
I bought a truck over the weekend. It is not practical at all when it comes to gas mileage or insurance or driving on roads with other vehicles or about a million other things, but it sure will come in handy if I take it on a fishing trip. It has a bed that can hold about sixty cubic feet of fish. It could also easily tow a boat -- a simple yet powerful boat that I could take into a body of water and fish off of. I don't own this or any other boat yet, nor do I know anyone who owns a boat, but I know for sure that I will be able to tow one when the time comes.
When I am asleep, I dream about fish. The dreams are always different. Once, I was swimming with several bright and lively fish. They rushed up to me and let me hold them in my hands, one by one. They would happily remain still while I scaled and gutted them with a sharp knife, then would jump, disemboweled, into a steaming tray in a wok filled with hot water. They giggled when I covered them with pieces of ginger and scallions, and would roll over as I poured soy sauce, oil, and cooking wine over their bodies.
Another time, I dreamt that I had met the deceased Austrian philosopher, Ludwig Wittgenstein. We were fishing. He was lecturing about his work, the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus. It was the only writing that was published during his lifetime and I understand its importance, but the fact that he wouldn't stop talking about it was getting on my nerves. I couldn't get a word in edge-wise. He kept talking about language as being reduceable to logical fact and blah blah blah....
When I tried to refute one of his claims, he would berate me for being logically inconsistent. I tried hard to remember the criticisms I read about when I had studied the Tractatus in college, but that was a long time ago. Finally, I told him to shut the fuck up before he scared away all of the fish. He conceded and concentrated on catching a fish. I pulled in several happy fish, identical to the ones in my previous dream. Wittgenstein snagged his line on a branch and spent the rest of my dream struggling with it.
My dreams make me wish that my house were under the ocean. Instead of looking out onto a carport and the football field of the high school next door, I would be able to look at fish. I would wave at them and say hello. They probably wouldn't do anything, at best they would just stare at me. It would be so much better. I would be able to see fish without having to dream about them or go through the trouble of driving my big ugly truck. No one else seems to like this idea. It's more popular nowadays to build a house in Orange County than to figure out how to build one in the ocean.
Fish make up my dreams literally and figuratively. They represent peace and happiness. People might call me eccentric for being so preoccupied, but at least I know what makes me content. At least there is something out there that I can ostensibly point to and say, "That is what I want in life." And Orange County? Now that's just fucked up....
My father was a tough son of a bitch. When I would hear children …