tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42212431957323474612009-12-04T23:14:28.071-08:00a novel by keir duboisKeirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-35185528198434343832009-07-05T00:13:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:41:28.473-08:00

Yeah, thanks to my three loyal readers for indulging my nostalgic impulses. I'll be editing and rewriting the thing in the coming months and will likely self-publish, since I have absolutely no interest right now in fighting the never-ending War to Make People Care.Anyway, over the past year and a half of blogging this beast (both here and at Docudharma), I've posted several other nifty things

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-22531115252673164292009-06-14T22:57:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:17.304-08:00

10/27/95My mind has always seemed to work against me. In my mind I kept remembering things that never happened, but they always seemed so real and so true—way more than the most messed-up deja vu. In my mind I always pictured some ideal, distorted image of both what my past was and what my future would be. In my mind I lived a lifetime in four minutes, cramming a kaleidoscope of hopes and fears

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-36661123702023373172009-05-31T02:24:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:16.951-08:00

7/9/96Some decisions you live with forever. Many people learn that ugly lesson without truly knowing what it means, but eventually I ceased to be one of those people. When the decision to lie came, it came easily. Following through was a little harder, considering the venue—a Catholic church called St. Edward's that commanded a sublime vista of sea and sky—but under the circumstances I still

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-68710991009398285652009-04-28T07:50:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:16.975-08:00

10/27/95I wake up late the morning after Olivia's party, and am almost immediately hit with the full force of approaching armageddon. Worrying about Roy all night had kept me conscious until an absolutely satanic hour, and now after lurching through the bathroom-kitchen-closet routine at a sloppy pace, I blearily step into the end of the world when leaving for school. The air is thick and dry

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-71769140650097184812009-03-27T21:19:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:17.018-08:00

7/5/96I had always been good in a crisis. Siempre he aceptado el caos. I mean, I'm used to it by now—becoming el tranquilo ojo del huracán was essential en mi familia—pero esa día, Díos mio, was really pushing it. I had been taking turns at Lisa's bedside with Mámi, because the overdose and associated chingada of the previous twenty-four hours had calmed down enough for Miguel and Apá to go back

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-57502572009076235672009-02-21T01:13:00.002-08:002009-11-11T21:37:17.052-08:00

10/27/95Life as a thing starts almost immediately after he's gone, but life as a thing is so unbelievable that I have to stay still for a long, long time just to wrap my head around it. Life as a thing is numb for a little while but pretty soon it gets absolutely unbearable once the reality of it begins to take hold, and then staying still is, like, someone else's problem and it's all I can do to

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-83033520573443995972009-01-19T00:12:00.002-08:002009-11-11T21:37:17.084-08:00

7/5/96I possessed very few of my father's old things, but one of them was a warped and discolored old acoustic guitar that I nominally shared with my brother. "Nominally" because it didn't feel right to take it to school with me last fall; R.J. had been playing it more often since he'd formed the band, and once I had my own electric bass guitar, I couldn't really exert much ownership over the

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-67046289550438186062009-01-14T20:40:00.002-08:002009-11-11T21:37:17.108-08:00

10/27/95I start with her hair because I've always loved when Frankie's let it go all long and wavy. She's in that, like, weird head-space right before sleep, which is of course a huge turn-on right now, so I try to keep my hands from shaking too much as I softly run my fingers through her curly ends. I should really try and pass out too, because there's so much that I'd really love to forget

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-34254370992391547812008-12-31T02:58:00.002-08:002009-11-11T21:37:17.137-08:00

6/27/96Have you ever crushed someone's spirit? Ever demolished someone's confidence? Destroyed their self-worth so completely that they're reduced to a trembling puddle of shame? I hadn't—not until the day I drove Frankie back home to her parents for the very last time, that is. It was protracted and hideous and awful and extremely overdue, not to mention completely deserved. Or so I thought at

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-9748710180586335652008-12-27T02:20:00.002-08:002009-11-11T21:37:17.154-08:00

10/26/95Some lucky souls get to remember their dreams, but I've never been one of those people. Never recalled any profound truths from random subconscious netherworlds. Never thought that much mattered, though, cause I've definitely dealt with some weird hallucinatory shit—usually caused by either controlled substances or some deliriously painful physical injury.So yeah, an absolutely skewed

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-70528655061368765962008-11-17T00:58:00.002-08:002009-11-11T21:37:17.183-08:00

6/27/96For many years I'd tried to convince myself that nostalgia meant death, that indulging in happy memories was much worse than just a pleasant waste of time, but recently I'd suspected that was a war I'd lost before it had even begun. The impulse to dwell to distraction had long since permanently fused with my frontal lobe, because not only had I been unable to kick the vile temptation, I'd

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-2591845363297700582008-11-11T23:44:00.002-08:002009-11-11T21:37:17.205-08:00

10/26/95One time in high school I overheard some good Christian, bible-studying teens talking about how faith is something that happens when you give up control, when you stop actively trying to affect things, because as they saw it, 1) God controls everything, so why fight that, and 2) it felt so much better to not have to worry about that stuff anyway, right? Even Lisa mumbled irresponsible

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-65353393170192542062008-10-03T23:34:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:17.242-08:00

6/27/96The sun shone down in withering malevolence on the way to Frankie's house, baking my drive north in the harsh heat of lives lived a little too far from the ocean. Thanking everything holy for being raised minutes from the beach and the sea's cool release only seemed cheesy for a split-second, because I was mired in Anaheim traffic on the 57 freeway during high June. I kept the Green

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-51532126539623538422008-10-01T23:28:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:17.225-08:00

10/26/95People never pay attention to how their body works, until suddenly it doesn't. Then they really feel conscious of how bizarre and miraculous and utterly strange that thing is. That thing that imprisons their soul, that throbs and pulses and sweats, that breathes and itches and gurgles and snots and shits. Then they know—when something's wrong. Then maybe they pay attention and, if they're

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-28578948183381423172008-09-02T22:59:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:17.265-08:00

5/6/96My tolerance had really gone to shit over the past six months, as if I'd never realized that staying on the wagon in a college town would be fucking impossible. I had to maintain the facade and pretend to hold my liquor, not only to blunt the ball-busters—everyone suddenly seemed to decide they liked me better when I was drunk—but also to avoid any more epic blackouts. My liver, which had

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-66793177718837611972008-08-19T07:27:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:17.285-08:00

10/26/95"We have to do something about Roy, you know." Olivia glares at me with resigned frustration, and takes a sip from the red plastic cup in her hand. "Like, now, Derek." Someone screams behind me, and I hear a crash, but I don't respond and she glares at me indignantly. Liv makes a point to look over my shoulder at the gathering cyclone across the room, but I don't want to see it. Roy and I

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-31344831507989052402008-08-08T09:24:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:16.710-08:00

5/6/96Churches have always annoyed me. On the few occasions when I've had to spend time inside one, I've never felt comfortable. The oppressive, insistent implication that I don't belong there always hit me right in the chest, and I always felt that the pathetic physical approximation of a divine portal fairly reeked of moral hubris and superstitious, fearful ignorance. I couldn't relate to

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-65728575942301721052008-08-07T11:07:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:16.740-08:00

10/26/95I'm beginning to think my life is in stuck in a perverse time warp, in some bizarre existential experiment where the control group is off getting massages and facials while I'm marooned once again with Roy, stuck inside a tiny metal box hurtling down Interstate 5 through Downey and La Mirada and Santa Fe Springs. It's sometime after seven at night and we're driving into Orange County for

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-72687076715633770272008-08-03T14:11:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:16.782-08:00

5/1/96My mother used to say that I had an advanced case of "Prince Henry the Navigator Syndrome," and she was more prescient than I think even she knew. When I was a kid I absorbed ridiculous amounts of historical and geographical trivia, even before the onset of nightmarish insomnia made those useful distractions a necessity. Crumpled National Geographics and outdated Britannicas taught me about

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-18993026711436738312008-08-02T22:00:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:16.812-08:00

10/16/95I check out of the emergency room early Monday morning, just short of forty-eight hours after blundering into the savage beating that had blown my weekend apart in a frenzy of shame. So much had happened between then and now, but so little of it had penetrated my battered body or wretched state of mind, and simply trying to process everything is now taking up most of my mental power as I

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-77910879283453310962008-07-18T00:38:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:16.836-08:00

4/26/96I came home from Olivia's around midnight, right into a brewing vortex of angst that had been set in motion hours before. On my way up the driveway I'd barely noticed the unfamiliar, unmarked Crown Vic parked on the curb out front—I was too wrapped up in a cloud of bitter regret that had hovered like a vulture over my quick cross-town drive. I thought about sneaking in, cause the living

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-27041031114802771482008-06-23T23:31:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:16.859-08:00

10/14/95"How's the view, Haynes?" A starburst of pain shoots through my skull as Chris Addison laughs with righteous malice, grinding my face into the ice plant near the edge of the cliff. Cars zip by on Coast Highway far below, with the ocean glittering beyond, but the plants' scent mixes with the smell of my own bleeding nose, and it's overpowering enough to make my head recoil off the ground.

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-28395686993298555042008-06-13T00:14:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:16.880-08:00

4/26/96Olivia tasted like addiction, like she was trying to absolutely submerge me in narcotic sensuality. I was just getting used to the idea of life as a casual victim of overwhelming seduction when she seemed to really start pouring it on, and my brain blazed with the red light of no return. The video hadn't even finished before she'd slid away to kill the lights, chattering happily about the

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-69730973481828581182008-06-10T07:31:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:16.906-08:00

10/14/95Lisa has sneaked out of rehab again. I know this because she is walking right next to me on the Camino Capistrano sidewalk during a bright and glorious mid-morning that has no business showing up in October. We pass by enormous mansions on our left that obscure the million-dollar ocean view, most sporting elegantly severe wrought-iron fences and mechanical gates that don't even bother to

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221243195732347461.post-82297124388538688102008-05-28T00:21:00.002-07:002009-11-11T21:37:16.930-08:00

4/26/96"Yeah!! Yeah, it's like that, baby!"Alan's voice rang with defiant glee through the ragged PA speakers as we bashed out the last notes of "Eat Shit And Die" from the center stage of my old high school's main hall. Our frontmanly singer-guitarist's enthusiasm was met with scattered applause and semi-comprehension from the inert mob of teenagers below, who seemed to wonder why their lunch

Keirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04724669451849355105noreply@blogger.com0