The sound of cars in the distance. I lie
on a mattress. The most jagged in Hell. Head over the side face down in waste
paper basket. The waste paper basket metallic rusting contains an astonishing
volume of vomit to which I contribute munificently. Vomit scorches inside the nostrils
coats throat tongue lips chin.
Sucking back spittle and flashes of
light retching everything stabs any attempt at movement immediately punished
with more of the same bile poison stomach muscles shriek.
Splash of tequila no place time name only
spasms spewing and this soul-destroying bed of nails.
It goes on forever.
The clown was dead. On this, we all
We stood around. We stared at all the
pieces – his remains. We stared, but with each other we did not make eye
This clown, he had tried to cut his
wrists at first. He’d used a pocket knife. He’d failed. Fumbled it.
Then he’d moved on to a belt. He’d
wrapped his clown-belt around his clown-neck. He’d closed the ends of the belt
in the closet door. Over the top. This proved to be more effective than the
pocket knife. He’d succeeded, and now the clown was dead.
Now, if you are going to go and have yourself a stroke –
and I do not recommend that you do and in fact, I would strongly urge against it,
but if, despite my warning, you are going to go and have yourself a stroke anyway
then here are some simple things that you should avoid to keep yourself this
side of a worst-case scenario:
First, if you are going to
go and have yourself a stroke, do not do it while you are alone. Do it while
you are around other people, so someone else around you can see you and notice you
and maybe even say, “Hey! Look at her!
She seems to be acting a little odd. I wonder if something might be wrong!”
if you should be so fortunate as to begin to have your stroke right in the
midst of all of your family and your friends, then do not mistake your stroke
for a migraine and announce you are going home. Do not ride your bicycle the
two miles back to where you are staying just to sit… all alone… on your couch…
in the dark… stroking out.
pictures show all of my people – my cast of characters – even though some of
the people don’t come around anymore.
Things rush by, outside my windows – most of
them just shapes, blurs, really – and some of them seem more threatening than
others seem, but I feel safe in here.
While I am in here, I find things to do to
occupy my time. We all have to be doing something, after all, wherever we end
up, and mostly, I blog.
I have been blogging like this for years. By
now, it might even have been decades. I do not know. There is no way to know