Robert E. Brown. Never knowing you were left behind

I had the same reoccurring dream for nearly a decade. For the entire time I lived in Albuquerque, it wasn't just a dream, it was THE dream. The only one I ever remembered upon waking and it viciously tortured me at least three times a month for eight years.



I was informed that I HAD to go back to high school. The school changed every time but the scenario didn't. My transcripts were wrong and I was forced to re-attend. Suddenly I was trapped, an adult amongst teenagers. I would wander aimlessly through the halls, frustrated and embarrassed that I had been sent back by some unknown power that be. At some point I would realize that I had to find an old girlfriend that I had regretted breaking up with my senior year. I would run through the halls in an eager panic, looking for her in order to apologize for breaking her heart and my own so long ago. After frantically searching for what would seem like an eternity, I would slowly realize that she had long since left, along with all my peers gone years before. I was still there and everyone had moved forward. I was alone and left behind.

I would wake up feeling defeated and morose. It was a closely guarded secret that I never once uttered until years later when I felt compelled to confront my subconscious in a very literal, real world way. But that necessary and humiliating confessional is another tale for another time. I pondered the meaning of the symbolism constantly through my adult life in New Mexico. But you know what they say about seeing forests for the trees. You see, I lived in Albuquerque because I was (supposed to be) going to college.

And what an academic career I had. Changed Universities once. Switched majors three times. Dropped out three times. It took me nearly nine years to complete a BFA. When I went back the final time hell bent on graduating, I read over my transcript in horror. Registered for 18 credits, completed 6. Registered for 16 credits, completed 3. My very first college class was literally straight out of high school. It was a summer session Spanish language class at NMSU and one of my lab partners was a kid that graduated high school at the same time. When I took my last semester in order to get my degree, I realized the professor teaching a course that I was contemplating, was that lab partner. He had his masters and had been teaching for years.

And what was I doing during all that time? Feeling the pull of "the Party." My townie friends and the heavy regiment of concerts and social gatherings conflicted heavily with my academic pursuits. But I really didn't have the excuses that my going down in flames friends had. I never became addicted to drugs-didn't become a junkie like so many. I only drank socially (albeit I drink beyond binge when I do) Didn't even like to smoke pot much. While I dabbled in drug dealing early on, I stayed on the sidelines of my crews ever increasing criminality. I just didn't know the party was over. No one told me, "Robert, it's time to go home now." I liked being in college and used to joke that I didn't ever want to go into the real world. "It's scary out there." I also liked being a rock n' roll scenester man about town. A hot girl in my lap while I hung out with the band. Neither predilection leant itself to the finishing of my academic training, which meant neither lent itself to truly starting my adult life. Instead I stayed in one place. My townie friends crashed and burned, slowly sinking into the lower bowels of addiction and total defeat. My college friends graduated and got real jobs. I stayed put, tormented by dreams of being left behind and never being able to find what I needed.


My Company