Friday, October 31, 2008

Any Sex This Year?


    I just awoke around three O'clock in the morning. I had a nightmare. It was strange and frightening actually. I was in an old run down theater with a woman and a man and we walked down a long hall to where the floor finally sloped up to the ceiling. We stood for a minute, staring at this strange construction, turned and went back the other way. Doors lined both sides of the corridor, and when we reached the end of it, it was terminated by a door.

    We passed through this door into a similar corridor. This one was shorter with fewer doors lining the walls. This one also ended with a door with no knob. That was when the woman tried one of the doors against the wall, finding it locked, but unleashing an inhuman howl from the other side. In the center of the door was a mail slot, through which I peeped in and could see nothing but black. But I could feel a rushing wind as something approached rapidly, and when I did let go and step back, something large crashed into the door, causing it to tremble violently.

    Suddenly, more howls were heard, causing the blood to freeze in my veins. Then, all of the knobs on the doors turned and rattled angrily as whatever they were, were suddenly alerted of our presence. The man with us dashed to the door through which we came and I ran behind him, leaving the woman trailing behind us. The man slipped through the door and attempted to shut if fast behind him, but I had reached it and drove a leg into the threshold up to my thigh. I yanked the door from him and held it open for the woman to race through and just as she did, the door at the end of the hall tore open.

    The thing that came though it was covered with blue hair, tall and gangly with long talons and teeth. It stepped out, looked about and noticed me at the door, standing in mute horror. It closed the distance between us before I could slip through the door and close it. It grabbed the frame in both hands, holding the door open, mouth agape in an obscenely wide grin. I drove my foot into its chest, knocking it back from the door and onto the floor, then slammed the door shut and locked it.

    My heart was pounding in my chest as I awoke, still hearing the howls of the creatures and the rattling of doorknobs. FUCK ME. I looked around in the dark and found everyone else fast asleep. No matter what, after that shit, I could not find sleep. My body refused to return to the nether land of slumber. I thought to give up, get up and take a much needed shower. But no, I didn't want to get out of bed. If I did get up, I might never go back to sleep, which would make me miserable tomorrow. I thought to read, but my glasses was in my bag under the bed. So I put on my MP3 player and threw the blanket over my head. It was of one of my recorded therapy sessions.

    I awoke at the end of the recorded session. It had finished at I was awake to the lights of the dorm. Meaning it was past Six AM. People were getting ready and I could not get up. Once again, the TRAMADOL doing its magic. I worked my way into a sitting up position, and set up my laptop for work. I emailed and wrote poetry and haiku and looked for quotations and researched my article.

    It was soon time for me to head to my Doctor. The Incredible Dr. A. That's what I should call him from now on. The man told me that as long as I took that damn COLCHICINE the pain of my gout would go away, and damnit it's gone. Even the TRAMADOL is dealing with the pain in my shoulder. I'm feeling good for a change. I hit the Way and stop off at a Starbucks before going to see the Doc.

    He checks my blood pressure and gives me a clean bill of health. I'm fine except that I'm overweight. This I'm aware of I just wonder how I'm going to lose the weight. "Just exercise," he says. Yeah, I have to start that up again. I've stopped over the week. "And eat some brocoli and brussel sprouts. They're good for you. Even though you may not like brussel sprouts." I happen to like brussel sprouts in butter sauce. I think about it for a moment until the thought bubble bursts. I'm homeless. When was the last time that I had control over what I ate? My meals are planned by others or made a catastrophe by me. "Things look good," he says. "Since you did so well and took your medicine we won't weigh you today." He opens a desk drawer at his lower right. "But now it's time for a blood test." He slaps the form down on the desk. He looks back at me, another form in his hand. "Have you had any sex this year?" Oh come on, doc. The homeless life is a celibate one. He sits up and begins filling out the form. He puts an x in the box to test my testosterone level. Hmmmm

    I shoot out from my Doc's to go to Madison Starbucks where I see Electra who gives me the immediate task of watching her homeless bag as she walks about the city without it's weight on her back. I continue to research my article, whipping myself up into a frenzy, getting it the fuck done as soon as I got the seed for the article. I built the outline quickly and with very little pain.

    When Electra finally came back for her bag, I was done with the outline. With a pause I would write the article.

    I am proud of myself. I had beat the deadline by an entire week almost once more.

    I go to the library.

    HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2008/10/any-sex-this-year.html
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