OH WELL, THE SURGE IS ON
It's 4am, and here I am again.
Where else can I be? The coffee's
finished, and I'm having some. Not
supposed to; something about caffeine
and my medicine, but I no longer care.
They can brain me if they like. I'm
pretty tired now of all their gripes.
-
They're still telling me I cannot drive.
One month along and what's with that?
I can't stand the freaking passenger seat,
and my 'driver' leaves a lot to be desired.
Is there a prize for hitting every bump
along the God-damned road?
-
The nurse said an 'airbag' could kill me,
knocking my sternum to bits. So what's
the difference? Where one sits? Maybe
they said sit in the back seat, but 'I forgets.'
-
To hell with it all. It's pitch black out, and,
as usual, I'm so full of worries I could shit.
Or is that too 'sit'? How did that phrase get
started anyway? Only certain times that one
shit? Who the hell are there people anyway?
-
There's not a light to be seen outside. Well,
off in the distance, where there's another house
up that hill. It goes nicely with the darkness, in
any case. In any case? No, really just this one.
-
They still tell me not to life more than 10 ponds.
What weighs that, a bag of flour? Isn't the gluten
bad for you? A ten pound bag of sugar? Isn't sugar
a real killer too? My friend Don Spechts, he used
to say he had '20 pounds of swinging meat!'
I wonder how he would have pee'd? He's
dead now too, regretfully. Boy this 4am
living really sucks. Is everybody
else so happy?
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