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Saturday, June 28, 2014

0005 - a normal day

Sunlight bled through my sleep crusted eyelids. I burrowed under my blankets. After half a day in bed, my body ached. I hurled my pillow across the room and watched it land on a sneaker. Three days of dirty clothes littered the grey carpet: white ankle socks with brown, dusty soles, cotton grandma panties, and jogging suits never once used to break a sweat. I wanted to go back to sleep, to dream, but my bladder screamed and my right hip felt like it was being pried from my thigh bone with a sharp, pointed, bowie knife.
   There’d be no more Technicolor, Surround Sound, virtual reality happening in my head until an acceptable bedtime rolled around later in the day. My dreams might be scary as hell, but that was so much better than what passed for my reality.
I should do some laundry. There were dishes in the sink to clean or popcorn pieces to vacuum. The excitement never ended. Since it was Saturday morning, at least, I didn’t have to drag myself to a boring job and sit in a boring cubicle surrounded by colorless people who wanted everyone to be as gray as they were.
My waking world was a gray photograph without highlights or contrasts. I didn’t even have the pleasure of a decent black and white image. Numb. I was numb. I couldn’t even feel my body. I had no idea where my flesh ended, and the air began. My physical world was as flat as bubbleless champagne. I wish I could drink like an alcoholic except I’d fall asleep, drool but not dream. No point in that.
I plopped myself down in the dusty, brown recliner facing my daytime companion. I turned on the TV; the only thing I managed to turn on these days. A few hours of mindless entertainment and I might find the energy to do something, anything. I glanced at my journal. Now, the guilt and castigations would start. Bargaining with my inner child lasted two hours. I still didn’t let her out to play.
Pausing the DVR so I wouldn’t miss a moment of scintillating entertainment, I moved for the first time in hours to get the icecream carton from the freezer and a soup spoon. When all else fails, eat and let the carbohydrates numb you up even more. Legal. Easy to get. Effective. The recriminations would come later.
The spoon fell out of my hand and landed on a fuzzball by my foot. I picked it up. I wiped it on my pant leg and took another scoop of chocolate peanut butter swirl. I watched as the spoon fell in slow motion, tumbling bowl over handle until it landed on the wood floor, splattering melted ice cream like a cheap crime scene knock off. I stared at it. It dawned on me that I had had enough ice cream for one day. A tear dropped from my cheek and mixed with the mess. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. The world was out to get me.
No. That wasn’t true. That would require an active participation on my part with the rest of the world. I never muster enough of anything to connect with the alternate reality outside my front door. I looked at that door. It was your standard wooden door, not even an inch thick in some places. It felt like a stone wall rising above my head, dwarfing me, growing larger, expanding to circle around me until I was encased in the oubliette.
My breathing ragged, it came in short, rapid gasps. I closed my mouth to cut off this childish ridiculousness, to prevent myself from hyperventilating. Instead, a lack of air caused my vision to blur and white pinpricks of light to pierce my eyeballs. I sucked in a lungful of oxygen. I flung my hands out to grasp the arms of my chair. My fingers struck my journal. It slammed onto the melted icecream with a loud, wet slop. I stared at it and knew how worthless I really was. Why did I bother?

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

0004 - pinch me

   The pains in my stomach brought me to full consciousness, but my physical self was still out of synch with my mind, like the way TV images used to have white shadows back in the 60’s. I felt dizzy and nauseous. I stood bent double, head down. I held onto the bedside table and took a couple of steps then I ran, tripping over the bathroom rug and crashing to my knees before the toilet. I threw up all over the seat. I threw up until nothing came up except bits of my stomach lining.
   When the heaving stopped, I collapsed onto the cold tile floor, pressing my cheek down, trying to cool my fever. I lay there hyperventilating.
{You just have the flu.} I moved my face away from the vomit splatter near my nose. {Hallucinating because of sickness is better than actually coming face to face with an incarnation of Lucifer.}
I rose slowly onto my hands and knees. I crawled, inch by inch, pulling the bathroom trashcan along with me, you know, just in case. I knew I was close to my destination when I felt the rug burn my knees. I stopped by the bed and rested my forehead on the mattress. I took three deep breaths and heaved my body back into bed.
I lay there, naked, unable to pull the sheet over myself. I didn’t bother to try since I knew I was alone. The breeze from the ceiling fan cooled me. Tiny clicks on the wall by my head, like the soft tapping of fingernails on a mirror, drew my eyes up.
“Hitting bottom will be like sitting on a mountain top by the time I finish with you.”
I screamed.

Monday, June 9, 2014

0003 - a slap in the face

       Samael spoke, his voice throbbing inside me.
Samael spoke and I knew him; "chief of Satans" and "the great prince in heaven" ~ accuser, seducer and destroyer.
“You waste your self.” My heart cramped.
“You don’t deserve to live.” My throat cramped.
“Say your prayers.” My stomach cramped.
Now I lay me down to sleep, I huddle, cower, hide and weep...

Thursday, June 5, 2014

0002 - meeting

The street lamp outside blew, sending shards of glass pecking at my window. Sleep would be hard to come by tonight.
My alarm went off. I groaned into my pillow. I didn't want to get up but there was no point in staying in bed. I struggled out of the sheets binding me to my mattress, damp fabric clinging, taking what little energy I had left.
Snaking my legs over the edge, my toes seeking the floor like a forked tongue, I stepped into a thick black goo. It covered the toes of both feet, my right thigh and my left buttocks. Picture a dark vacuum sealed plastic package or … one of those shiny latex fetish catsuits with a zipper over the mouth hole.
I gasped for air and sucked in evil, thick as crude oil. I tried to go to my safe place but I had a hard time remembering where that is.
The attack lasted for three minutes.I know because I counted off the seconds in my head to distract myself from the pain.
I thought meeting an angel would be pleasurable not painful. Electric shocks; crashing thunder; crushing darkness: Iron needles pierced my head behind my eyes.
I directed my sight at him but my vision slid off the edges of his body. Onto? Into? Six black wings, opaque and massive as the point of no return.
I was on the verge of my own personal event horizon.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

0001 - so it begins

The street lamp outside blew, sending shards of glass pecking at my window. Sleep would be hard to come by tonight.