Eric Arvin's Blog, page 54
July 18, 2011
July 17, 2011
Russian Bodybuilder Alexey Lesukov in Miami
This cutie patootie gets a lot of flack from other "bodybuilders" on Youtube for steroid use, etc., but they can eat it. He's adorable! Look at that smile. And when he speaks at the end of this video...Aaaaawww! Like a puppy!
July 16, 2011
On Nearly Being Mounted in a Hospital
Continuing with my on-line therapy session regarding my visions when I was in the hospital last September: I had been moved a new room. After two weeks I had shown improvement. I was still very sick, just not as sick.
Over the next few nights, the new room, due to my condition and who knows what else, at times resembled less a hospital room and more a beauty parlor (complete with a row of sinks) or a Japanese folk remedy store (my mother was in a kimono) or a seedy motel room (with an Elvis-like male nurse). But perhaps the most haunting of all of these visions - all of them feeling as real and frustrating as real life - was the night I thought my hospital room was a trailer home.
The room was very dark. Outside my window I saw a glittering Cincinnati off in the distance like some Emerald City by night. It was if the trailer was on the outskirts of the city, in the hills and brush and bramble. On the wall of the room were mounted moose heads. I became very frightened, but unsure as to why. I just knew none of what I was seeing was right. Everything was much too dark and heavy. Like a power outage.
I looked to my side. There was the hunter leaning against the trailer wall with a rifle clutched in his hands as he slept. His snores sounded like growls. I could not see his face, but he was an immense man, with a protruding chin like one would see on a Neanderthal. If he woke he would kill me just for being there, and he would do it with glee, a hungry grin stretched across that deformed jaw.
Then, to my horror, he began to move. He knew I was awake. I squirmed in my bed, trying to shrink away. Trying to dig far enough under the covers so that he wouldn't be able to get me. And just as he looked toward me, just as I made a faint sound of terror, everything lessened and transformed. And I was looking at my mother who had been sitting in the chair beside my bed the whole time.
Over the next few nights, the new room, due to my condition and who knows what else, at times resembled less a hospital room and more a beauty parlor (complete with a row of sinks) or a Japanese folk remedy store (my mother was in a kimono) or a seedy motel room (with an Elvis-like male nurse). But perhaps the most haunting of all of these visions - all of them feeling as real and frustrating as real life - was the night I thought my hospital room was a trailer home.
The room was very dark. Outside my window I saw a glittering Cincinnati off in the distance like some Emerald City by night. It was if the trailer was on the outskirts of the city, in the hills and brush and bramble. On the wall of the room were mounted moose heads. I became very frightened, but unsure as to why. I just knew none of what I was seeing was right. Everything was much too dark and heavy. Like a power outage.
I looked to my side. There was the hunter leaning against the trailer wall with a rifle clutched in his hands as he slept. His snores sounded like growls. I could not see his face, but he was an immense man, with a protruding chin like one would see on a Neanderthal. If he woke he would kill me just for being there, and he would do it with glee, a hungry grin stretched across that deformed jaw.
Then, to my horror, he began to move. He knew I was awake. I squirmed in my bed, trying to shrink away. Trying to dig far enough under the covers so that he wouldn't be able to get me. And just as he looked toward me, just as I made a faint sound of terror, everything lessened and transformed. And I was looking at my mother who had been sitting in the chair beside my bed the whole time.
July 15, 2011
July 14, 2011
Dazzling New Review for 'Woke Up'
Wow! I love the response my new book Woke Up in a Strange Place received from Out in Print (HERE). Perfect!
July 13, 2011
July 12, 2011
On Coming Near to Death in a Hospital
I thought I'd share another of the strange occurrences/hallucinations/visions I had last September when I was in the hospital for a month with a deadly strain of pneumonia. Again, it felt as real as real. As real as me standing here and typing this post.
I saw, in this state, that I was no longer in my hospital room. I was in a bed, but the bed was in the attic of a Victorian home. I didn't actually see the outside of the house, but somehow I just knew it was Victorian. The furniture was all of that period, as was the clothing of my nurse, Lilly. She wore her long dark hair (which in reality was cut short) swept up into a knot on the top of her head. She wore a long dark, chekered gown which had a lace neck that went all the way up to just under her chin. I remember her checking on something beside my bed, though there were no electronic items in sight. I guess my mind blocked them out to favor the vision. All the noise around me was water-logged.
My mother sat on the other side of my bed toward my feet, dressed in Victorian wear (she loves the period) and reading from a book. I'll say right now that I have never been a fan of anything Victorian. The style of fashion and architecture has never appealed to me, so I'm still a bit confused as to why this vision came to me in such a manner.
So, there I was. In a Victorian era house instead of a hospital room. And it hit me. I was dead. That's the thought that came over me suddenly. I am dead and they aren't telling my mother I am dead. It was the strangest feeling. I was shocked yet relieved. And I felt like I was waiting on something to happen so I could move on to...somewhere. But first I needed someone to tell my mother I was dead and I was so upset they weren't doing so. And I was so certain. I was so certain I was dead.
I saw, in this state, that I was no longer in my hospital room. I was in a bed, but the bed was in the attic of a Victorian home. I didn't actually see the outside of the house, but somehow I just knew it was Victorian. The furniture was all of that period, as was the clothing of my nurse, Lilly. She wore her long dark hair (which in reality was cut short) swept up into a knot on the top of her head. She wore a long dark, chekered gown which had a lace neck that went all the way up to just under her chin. I remember her checking on something beside my bed, though there were no electronic items in sight. I guess my mind blocked them out to favor the vision. All the noise around me was water-logged.
My mother sat on the other side of my bed toward my feet, dressed in Victorian wear (she loves the period) and reading from a book. I'll say right now that I have never been a fan of anything Victorian. The style of fashion and architecture has never appealed to me, so I'm still a bit confused as to why this vision came to me in such a manner.
So, there I was. In a Victorian era house instead of a hospital room. And it hit me. I was dead. That's the thought that came over me suddenly. I am dead and they aren't telling my mother I am dead. It was the strangest feeling. I was shocked yet relieved. And I felt like I was waiting on something to happen so I could move on to...somewhere. But first I needed someone to tell my mother I was dead and I was so upset they weren't doing so. And I was so certain. I was so certain I was dead.
July 10, 2011
July 9, 2011
Jason Isbell and The 400 Unit - "Codeine"
Just thought I'd share my new favorite.
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