good morning, cruel world
2001-07-16 - 4:16 a.m.
�you know, I don't even have someone to talk to up here. like being in a prison, but the bars are made out of miles of open road.� �Nemo
Sometimes, I think that my body is in a parasitic relationship with itself. But I quickly realize that this is foolishness...if anything, my body is in a symbiotic relation with itself. The cells work together to form a functional organ, and the organs work together to form functional systems, and the systems work together to form a functional me. And none of the cells really know where they started, and no one knows where they began. They just know that they need each other to survive, and if they don�t get along, their whole universe soon collapses and fades from existence. But before they start to argue, they seem happy; just silently working together to grow, and build, and reproduce.
I should really wear a watch if I wanted to have more time. At least then I would have a time, the time. And any time is more time than none time at all.
So, there was this girl. And she was never really liked very much by her peers. Socially, she was walking a few blocks behind the rest of the parade. And one day (when she was about 15), she just got really depressed, and decided to kill herself. But she stopped, for whatever reason. In the days/months/years afterward, she found God. Er Jesus, er whatever it is you call it. When I met this woman and she told me her story, she was about 32. She had led a fulfilling life, and was currently working as a camp councilor for kids. She made kids smile more than any other person I know. And to think, this woman was, at one point, thinking about living the truncated life of a ripple beneath a bridge.
There was, at some time afterward, another girl, who went to a party with some seniors. And she got her freshman self smashed (as people are accustomed to doing at parties) and passed out. She woke up while her boyfriend was in the process of fucking her unconscious body. Some valium had been slipped into one of her many beers...and when it was all over, he let one of his friends have a go at her. This girl stayed with her boyfriend for a while, then broke up with him and moved on, as people are accustomed to doing. And so farr, she has managed to live a normal life, with the mild exception that her boyfriend has a fetish for strap-ons.
And there were three brothers. And these brothers used to have a sister. One day, they had gone to the beach, and she was swimming out farr...She started screaming. It might have been a jellyfish, or it might have been a harmless fishfish. Whatever it was, their step-father refused swim out to help her, and she sunk into the sea. While growing up brothers were randomly abused for the most simple or non-existent excuses their step-father could make up. Eventually, the step-father went to prison for some unconnected reason and the brothers went to camp with me. We were playing around and one of them accidentally cracked his chin open on the concrete.
I guess it depends on what you call a happy ending.
I wonder what Death has been upto these days. I don�t get to see much of him anymore, let alone entertain him with an unfinished game of chess. I wonder if he still walks, on all four of his hind legs, to watch the people who never seem to notice his passing. I wonder if he still wishes, for all this word, and all the next, that he could forget who he was for a moment, and know what it is to be human. I wonder if he still watches you in your sleep, and whispers sweet things into your ear, the things that become your nightmares.
No sleep last night. Spent the majority of the night making up realistic and yet totally impossible scenarios for the future of my life. And then chasing that with the vitamins of zero-to-five probability.
And I looked into her eyes, and realized we have both changed a great deal....a certain photograph in my mind slipped from hand and fell to flames...but still, for s second, I couldn�t help but think that we might have changed at the same rate, in the same direction....so that the little vectors between us would be the same as if she�d never said...but she did say, and things are different. Er rather, things aren�t even things anymore...and on the ninth day, god saw that it was all a flopp, and threw it into the trash...
