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Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Elemental Twisted Words


Bliss.

What is it? What can it be? Where can it be found? I don't know. I don't know and I have no clue. I just wake up every day wondering why I'm alive. I wonder this because my dreams are so real, and so fulfilling, that I don't want to return to the real world. I really don't. When I open my eyes and see my room I'm immediately depressed. I am back in my life, which has no meaning, which has no rhyme. I don't know what to make of it. I'm just living it.

It is this terribly lost feeling that I am trying to escape, to purge myself from. A feeling that I had when I was in the streets, living day to day out in the open, with everything you own on your back. It was a feeling that I had no soul, no life. I was empty and soulless. What the fuck is that about? I thought I passed this shit a long time ago. Like a bad taco from Taco Bell, that shit should pass through you and out the other end sooner or later. But there I am back with the same sickening meal, not freeing me of the stain of living this life.

I am sobering up. Feeling better from my Saturday of drinking and carousing. What am I to do about that? What? Get a Subway Sandwich. That's my plan. I rise and take my meds down to the pharmacy, dropping them off, an then to Subway for a hero sandwich. I'm going to eat well tonight. I order a foot long. Wow. Can I eat all that shit?

I head back to the SRO and right next to it is a liquor store. How fitting my life. How real it's tenebrous tendrils. Like a sleepwalker I stroll into the liquor store and buy a quart of Jack Daniels. What the fuck. I'll just keep it in the room. I don't have to drink it all, I just want it all. I just want it. Call me a fool, call me returning to the vomit, but I'm clear in what I want. Clear and dangerous.

I walk into the building and Sugar Plum pops out of the office. She greets me. I hide the bag of hooch behind me. Roberto appears and asks me into the office. FUCK! He has to talk to me. We all go to the office, Sugar Plum too. I keep the bottle between me and her. Roberto has to have me sign a truckload of papers and he needs for me to get a new budget letter from social services. Great. I have to return to the Mines of Moria. Fuck me. Sugar Plum goes into the office and takes a seat, far from me. I don't sweat a bullet. My heart does not skip a beat. I need to know where to go get this budget letter. Probably back to the place in Queens now. That's great. I really need this shit.

Roberto calls over Sugar Plum and Orlando and they surround me. How can I get my budget letter? Sugar Plum gives me instructions to come down and see Snow White in the morning and get my location from her. They don't notice my bottle of hooch. If they did, they would freak and either have me sent to rehab or pour it out. Neither is what I want since this shit is expensive. I still stand there, talking. The elevator comes and I back into it, still talking to them, the door closes. Shit. I made it. They didn't notice shit. I exhale deeply and go home. Back to my room, my abode.

I hit that sandwich like a pornstar, and open that bottle of Jack Daniels like there was no tomorrow. I rip though the wrapping and pour myself a stiff drink. Then I go and get my fucking roscoe and light my brains a fire. All creature pleasures, feeding the darkness, shoveling coal into the abyss of depression. Feeding it like it was a creature inside of me. Whahooo!! I am feeling good feeding this thing. I feel like I'm Seymore in Little Shop of Horrors, feeding murder victims to his plant i the plant shop. I am feeling great. I can't explain it. It is another way of dealing with a situation. I think of WELLBUTRIN, which was supposed to fight depression. But no, it didn't. I just made depression. Deeper and darker, whereas, I have to admit, this alcohol is serving a purpose. I can't explain it. I can't.

I'm feeling great in no time. My suicidal thoughts are long gone. There is a state of grace. Bliss. I am free. Suddenly all is free. I don't know what to make of this, so I no longer try to figure it out. I watch television. Stargate Atlantis. Pretty interesting. I find my moment of zen. I am suddenly happy to be me. Suddenly free to be me. I am in a state of bliss where my dream state is no longer more valuable than my living/sober state. I am supremely happy to be alive.

I have to reschedule my psyche appoint- ment, or I can be risking my SRO. I have to make appoint- ments for treatments ...IF I CAN JUST GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS ROOM!!! I have to see Snow White tomorrow. Crystal blue eyes, blonde, blonde hair, white, white skin, good looks. I shake my head. I have work to do tomorrow. I have to get that budget letter, that appointment, that life.

I have much to do. I sit back. A glass of Jack Daniels in my hand. The world spirals away. I have much to do, but now I am glad. I am glad suddenly to be me. I am not sad for a change. My spirit leaves my body. It rises above it, taking a heavenly step up and away. There I am, sitting on my bed, watching my computer screen as a television show plays. The lights are off, the shadows crawl. There is loneliness in the room, darkness.

There is Alone and Darkness.

Hobobob

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