mordicai caeli (mordicai) wrote,
mordicai caeli
mordicai

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while i was driving through upstate new york & connecticut, my thoughts sort of drifted back to the wasteland. back to three seperate memories from the larval stage of my life, spurred on in one case by driving past a trigger, & in the others by who knows what. vapors? though that reminds me: there was another one, too! four, one by a trigger, another by mists, & the others by who knows what else. ghosts.

the first one, the triggered one, just came up as we drove past a foundation being laid for a house. back when i was growing up on carter boulevard, there were empty lots on either side of our house, as well as all over the neighborhood. the biological units were getting in cheap at the ground floor of the development, but practically this led to lots of fort building in construction supplies & hiding in tall grass. prime of all luck was the periods between the digging of a foundation, the laying of a foundation, & the building of the house. that was perfect capture the flag time, let me tell you. we'd put the flags at the top of the dirt piles at either end of the foundation & then run through that concrete maze, jumping & scraping knees.

the mist memory is just simply that: mist. if you are from the wastelands, you just kind of take it for granted that sometimes your entire world will be obscured by nearly opaque fog. not, you know, tame shit, but rather roiling, living grey nothingness, blotting out anything more than a few meters away. peasoupers, i guess you might call them if you were some brit. i probably can't exagerate enough, especially when the conditions were prime. then again, most people can't understand about wasteland blizzards, either, so.

oh, you know, i just remembered what made the other memory come up out of the primordeal oceans. we drove past a place with fairly elaborate lawn decorations, & up it came. rise, r'yleah! back in high school we used to talk about going to hang out at the zoo; what we meant was going to the abandoned factory where they had made fiberglass animals & hanging out with the relics. a lot of folks who lived closer to cleveland would just break into the zoo & hang out, which is probably cooler, but then, we never got eaten by a polar bear.

the other memory is just an elusive little sliver i've been trying to chase down for a while now. it used to be that sometimes i'd go out to the rural lands surrounding the wasteland & stay on a farm for a couple of weeks. one of those times, i was exploring in an ancient barns that had fallen out of use, exploring the condemned building as was my wont. anyhow, i seem to remember opening a jammed door up into a room that had been sort of partially collapsed & finding it full of nazi treasure. just all kinds of weird stuff. i could never find the barn again, though. now that i think about it, maybe it is part of my time travel story arc. i wonder if the cyanide pills kill me in the end or not?
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