Gone through your Head

The shit that goes through your head is unbearable. Damnit...where'd I put it, I can't remember what it looks like, what it's called, why I want it. You bounce off the wall, for a moment a knot hole in the piney flow looks like the hair swept face of Jesus or wait, is it Che or Mitch Miller??. Oh, yeah, that! Who am I! Nevermind, let's see, I am around here somewhere. No...no...no...don't let those thoughts of Fukishima and deepwater horizon melt you fissures again. Oh fuck, we're fucked, we're totally fucked. How'd this bottle of wine get in my hand, who opened it?

It’s okay, where’s the dog? Find the dog, the dog will know. And under no circumstances answer the phone and make sure you stay away from the mirror. I mean, it could be worse, historically, the Russian army isn’t flooding in and raping all the women after all them men have been slaughtered or starved to death, the housewives aren't all spontaneously going out and drowning themselves in the river, the germans aren’t coming in and making us all take off our cloths and shoot us into pits, throwing our wee bairns on top of us to be buried alive with us, no one is sworn to kill us just because we wear glasses. We live in a different world now, really.....we do. And yes yes yes it's bad....but....but

It could be a lot worse.

What really freaks me out of this reality is that
It is going to be.

A very hard

landing.

Need to find that keyhole reality now so I can latch onto some way of escaping it while functioning at the same time...sensless aspects of a dream, it's okay okay it's only a dream. Wait...someone knocking at the door. The neighbor. Oh no. Not her. To ask me to trip her garbage disposal. Caught her licking her lips when I stuck the handle of her toilet plunger in the garbage disposal. Maybe a cold sore. Maybe not. House smells like orange rinds. Some kind of Christian radio station playing, cases of Mona Vie stacked in the hallway, a mercedes and audii in the garage. Will I take the toilet plunger again and go to work to the sound of really white sounding people singing about angels?

This is not reality, it is a statirical farce of a word that once took itself seriously. No...no...don't tell me it never was...okay, okay, breathe deep and say the mantra...Monty Python Monty Python, Monty Python Monty Python.

Flashmem walking over to her house My friend who lives in a lean too up high in the Idaho panhandle was driving his diamond rio into OK city when the Murrah building exploded. He freaked out because he thought whatever it was or whoever it was they’ll be catching somebody, anybody that will do as fast as they can and I live in a lean-to and avoid people for the most part. He has completely disappeared. They are rounding up all the Rainbow People. Don’t be ridiculous the little voice inside says. Who was it, Descartes? If there is a soul it must have a place. Calm down. Come down. Tell her you have lupus. Pour a glass of wine. It’s going to rain. Keep your mouth shut.

If nothing happens more than once it happens all the time.

And it could happen to any of us and we wouldn't know it.