Earl Yorke

Okay… this one might mean something. It’s very screwed up, and I’m having many issues analyzing it. Let’s see what you all think of the dream I had last night. To any family members who may find themselves reading this (particularly my father and unlce), don’t take it too seriously… it is just a dream after all. I just want to know what the meaning is…

I am at Cape Neddick beach, a small, sandy crescent just off of Shore Road on the border of York and Cape Neddick. It is a warm evening with purple and red clouds looming over the Atlantic, somehow catching the glare of the setting sun in the west. It is calm, serene… very satisfying to me, though I know not how I got there or why I am so moved by something I’ve already seen dozens upon dozens of times during my life. Still, I am happy. Happy to be alone.

I say nothing, choosing to ignore what had happened and continue my trek down the beach. For some reason I am able to convince myself that my father had hit me by mistake. It is not long before I am struck again though, this time from behind, and I fall face-down in the sand. When I attempt to get back up I find myself spitting out the sand that had entered my open mouth as I cried out in surprise during the fall. I am instantly reminded of trips to the beach in my youth when I refused to eat the sandwiches my parents had packed because of the sand that would ultimately enter my mouth as I ate. Nothing bothers me more than the hard crunch of sand between my teeth.

After I finish spitting out as much sand as I can manage without rinsing with water, I turn around to find that it was my uncle Jeb who had struck me this time. He is standing over me with a look of pure hatred painted upon his face. My father’s expressions match this glare, while my uncle Mike, for some reason, is looking away… toward the colored clouds that had previously entranced me. I close my eyes, ready to cry, but don’t have time to do even that! My father’s bare foot comes up quickly, kicking me right in the jaw and sending me back down to the sand.

I have learned enough at this point to know what they will do if I get back up again, so I run… back to the rest of my family. I am furious with them all even though it was just my father and uncle Jeb who had assaulted me. I have things to say to them all…

I think that this post is already too long and there is so much more for me to tell (the follow up to this post is even longer than this one), so I will leave it at that until tomorrow. This dream really hurt… and I’m so confused by it that I would greatly appreciate any interpretations you all might offer. I know how it looks so far, but I don’t believe that the real meaning is as simple as “Earl is threatened by his father and uncle,” because that is not the truth. Far from it actually. I am more threatened by my uncle Mike than either of those two, and he does nothing to me in the dream. This is so confusing…

Photo By Me (Disney World, 2006)

Ryan, my baby-brother, turns 21 today. Happy birthday, man!

Just yesterday he accepted a scholarship for his work in carpentry at Southern Maine Community College. Congratulations, Ray! I hope that your 21st is something to remember…

…I just wanted to touch upon something that I’m sure alot of you have noticed recently about this weblog. I’ve shifted things in the past few months to not only follow my writing, but to also follow my views and feelings on certain things that I feel are important… both to me, and to everything else. This has taken the form of a few new categories that I have added, and I would like to discuss the relevance of such categories here… now.

My Dreams… A Record

Perhaps the most important of such additions here. My dream journal is a means for me to share with my current and future friends and fans the things that go on in my head at night. While they might be a bit screwed up at times (see my next two posts after the one for Ryan), they are important for me to purge here so that you all will later understand where my inspiration comes from. This particular category also helps me to get things out of my head that I cannot place in my regular work; not yet, atleast.

Current Events

Steve Irwin’s death inspired this category. You see, sometimes things happen that shake me so forcefully that I have to write about them. Up until now I just talked with Dina and my family about such things, but I have found recently that nothing compares to the soothing powers of writing… not to me atleast.

George W. Bush’s address on September 11, 2006 was what set this category in stone for me. This is MY BLOG. My journal for the public. If I am to be successful to myself (and in general), I must let the world know what I think. I hope that someday, if I am published, my fans will look back on these writings and say, “Damn right, Earl!” Even if they don’t, they will atleast know where I came from… what I believe.

Completely Random and Pointless

One of my favorites! This category was born from one single post! A post that deserved no less than to have a category named after it. It’s funny when I think about it. It was so stupid, and yet it made me laugh more than I have in a long time. C’mon… two cats in an octagon match, reffed by none other than Joe Rogan?! He’s crazy…

While no posts since have been placed in that category, don’t think for a second that I won’t post more!!! I’m just waiting for the right things to fill it… to justify that category as that octagon match did. Hehehe.

Inspiration

This category has been here for quite some time, and I place this post there because of one simple truth: I find inspiration everywhere. I’ve been detached for quite some time, and this is because I was dealing with a part of my life that I let go of more than a year ago. I’ve gained weight because of it, and I thought that I had lost some of my obsessive qualities as well. Have any of you ever heard of Adderall? I was addicted to it when I started this blog, and for a long time after I gave it up I thought I would never write again. Well, that is my greatest inspiration of all; the fact that I let it go, and didn’t write for eight months afterward. But I came back without it, and do you know why? I have a dream, and it is not dictated by some drug. I am sharing this with all of you because I believe in myself. I am inspired… and I will go places one day… without a drug as a crutch.

There you have it. I have shed everything in one post…

and I will keep writing.

Thanks to Tina for turning me onto these things. After working in two different offices this year, both seeming to vomit the same crappy motivational posters on the walls, these things really speak to me.

Here are a couple of my favorites:

If you want to see more, click here… there are many of them.

(Moron)

I almost couldn’t write this post, but this is my blog afterall. George W. Bush is… a liar. I loved seeing the footage of him placing that circle of flowers in the water at the memorial at ground zero. He’s a great actor. He should play Nage in the movie adaptation of “The Bloodlines of Rollinsford.” He doesn’t care. Not at all. I watched his address. He’s still trying to justify the war in Iraq. Tina sent me a picture of a 9/11 T-shirt, and that really said it all. I’ll post it if you all want it, otherwise just send me an email and I will forward it. I know that alot of you have chosen to contact me that way lately, and I welcome it.

What happened on September 11, 2001 should never be forgotten… but we all know how our president first reacted to the attacks on that day… in front of that Kindergarten class… he didn’t even seem to care.

…George, I’m sorry that I wasted my first vote at age 18 on you…

This is what I think. Hate me if you think you should…

[Update]
…After watching that address again, I would like to let you all know that President Bush is still a moron. Nothing has changed since yesterday.

He can’t pronounce the word Nuclear… or a number of others…

…Still a moron, and he is making us all dumber from his example.

Aside from being an excellent artist who will one day be at the helm of my cover artwork design, my wife, Dina can weave hemp like a champ. She’s been at it for only a month, and she is already creating necklaces like this one:

Photo by Dina Yorke

Baby, your work deserves no less than to be shown to the world… and by “world” I mean: the 27 or so people who regularly visit this site! Hehehe. I am still getting more encouraging emails every week though. I must be doing something right! Let them all marvel at your hippie-skills.

[Update]
By popular demand (and by “popular” I mean: at the request of two people) here is the necklace that Dina made for me:

Photo by Dina Yorke

…Tina, look for the post that you inspired tomorrow.

Well, it’s not officially Fall yet, but anyone living in New England will certainly agree with me that it feels like Summer is over. I love/hate it. Spring and Summer are undoubtedly my favorite seasons. That warm feeling of re-birth that I feel when the trees begin to bud and leaves slowly begin to cover them is what makes it worth suffering through the Winter (and my seasonal effectiveness disorder… I don’t write much in the Winter). Fall is just a bridge that we all cross that gives way to Winter… the time of year when everything green just seems to die. Ironically, as much as I hate the winter and how it hinders my work, the writing bug always seems to bite me harder at the first sign of Fall (despite how depressed the season makes me). It’s as if I am at the end of a race and kick into a sprint to finish faster… as if I subconsciously know that I need to work harder to make up for an almost certain lack of progress the following season.

…I’m weird.

On to news on The Dominance Flush screenplay. THINGS ARE GOING GREAT!!! I’ve been staying up a bit later than my wife each night and have slowly but surely been moving along with the project. My reason for this whole post is that today I saw a single tree on Route 1 covered in red leaves… it is the first sign of Fall (aside from the weather) that I have seen. It reminded me of what first inspired me to write The Dominance Flush; dead trees. Just look at the top of this site, just below my name… what do you see? A seemingly dead forest. It was as my eyes settled upon that tree that divine inspiration hit me again! I now know where I will be going next with the screenplay, but I will not share it publicly yet. For those of you who are interested though, and are disappointed that I haven’t yet posted a bit of the screenplay, your wait will soon be over. It will happen this week!

Associated Press (Duh!)

I’ll keep this brief, as I’m sure that you have all read about this on multiple sites, and heard about it in numerous news reports already. Steve Irwin was the brand of crazy guy who I really looked up to for his courage as the well-known Crockidile Hunter. I have to get Dina just to chase away a spider nesting near the light above our kitchen sink! Don’t even get me started on snakes…

Back to Steve though. I find it a bit unsettling to think that he dealt with a variety of dangerous and aggressive animals for his entire adult life, and ended up dead as a result of a stingray attack. How screwed up is that? I find it even more upsetting to note that only three such deadly attacks have been documented by the Australian government in over 68 years!

Rest in Peace, Steve. Fate can be cruel sometimes.

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