My beard is growing in real good now.
I didn't drool when I slept last night.
I slept like the head of a hammer.
I had a strange dream that I was shipping stuff through UPS, DHL, Fed Express, services like that, and the orders were coming out all confused, so I would have to use the phone and the Internet to try to straighten shit out. Oh how appropros of my life.
I feel all the time like I'm trying to manage my life from a distance. Do you ever feel that way? That your life is largely unman- ageable? I feel sometimes like I'm trying to get dressed with gloves at the end of two long poles. Damn near impossible to accomplish.
Today...I have Dr. A. for my checkup and then I'll work on his new Internet connection. Get that up for him. Then I've got to go down town to get my blood tested from a different lab. Followed by my first meeting with my New Psychiatrist, Dr. W! Oh whoopee! The Dr. that walked right past me and out of her office a month ago. And last but not least, Dr. L. So that we can talk about termination some more.
Today...I really feel like I've slipped a notch down. One notch closer to the street again. That this was...this whole fucking thing...everything around me that I can touch...was just a simple respite from the winter, and that my time in 'the world' will soon come to a crashing halt. I have this eerie sense of dread that I'll be back in the street. She is coming to claim me like a mother cat would come up on one of its kittens and pick it up in its mouth and trot off to where it belonged. I wish I had a brighter outlook, a sunnier disposition, but like I was told, suicide and depression runs rampant among the homeless.
Yesterday...
More bad news. I burned down another day. I spent it bullshitting on IRC. Yeah, get pissed...get disappointed. I know I could have spent that time more constructively. I know that there are better things that I could be doing...but no. I got up early in the morning, took a hot shower and got dressed. Cleaned up my room, and checked the Internet...because I was going to go to BioReference Laboratories to get my labwork done for Dr. A. today. I got the nearest location, which is always out in East Bubblefuck, no matter what part of Manhattan you decide to go to.Yesterday...
I looked at my computer and thought about it. And I was just going to say hi to Anal_Slave, CYN, SlutMster, Peppa-licious, drtytlk, BlitheSpirit and scores of others. Just pop in, grin and split. It's good to say good morning to your friends. Besides...all of them might not even be in there. It was too early in the morning anyway. These people have to work sometimes...right? Well, guess what? They do. But before they go, they drop into the chatroom to say hello. They were all there. Talking shit and drinking coffee. I saunter into the room, take a virtual seat and goof off.
That's me. A goof off. A Slack by any other term. But a busy Slack. I'm elbows and asshole today and racing towards me is my third attempt to teach these kids poetry at the Borough of Manhattan Community College. I can stand in front of them and tell them that I'm a Slack. Let them know that a life of poetry and prose will most definitely lead you to the poorhouse. Become a lawyer or a doctor instead. Let insane people write poetry...remember...poets commit suicide often.
I don't know why I'm so down on myself today. Like they say...I'll say it again... depression and suicide run riot among the homeless population--and cops. Not that I'm talking suicide, I'm just giving myself validity to feel the way I feel. I have a right to have these feelings. I'm one rung up from the streets, and I really don't see another rung atop of me. My brother is hard at work. HARD at work, at finding another path, of breaking free, jubilantly from the ranks of the homeless. I'd be glad just to have a niche that I can scratch and claw through to get out. Maybe that's why I spend so much of my time in mIRC. It makes me feel normal. I'm as normal as Stooky McBastard.
Did I tell you that my beard is growing in?? It's more like a goatee, nice and small, but present- able. I'd better make sure I take my WELLBUTRIN today. I'm going to need it. As the Stones say: 'She keeps running for the shelter of her Mother's little helper'.Huh...things ARE different today. I hear everybody say.
They said it first, not me.
Hobobob
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