Series #4/4
THERE WILL BE A NEW ENTRY TODAY! I DEEM IT SO! ALSO, MAKE ME A GRILLED CHEESE!
The phone rang four times then the machine picked up. I can still feel the sound bouncing off the walls. It stings like an insect bite, scratchy even. I am not concerned about who has called. My, the ceiling is moving! Look at that mother swirl. Once, I had this girlfriend break up with me on the phone — and you know what? Fuck it. That was gonna be a lie too. Fuck it and fuck you.
You know what my problem is? I’m stuck. Not just in this chair, and not just because of the feet. It’s me. It’s what I tend to do over and over. The sherry, plus the feet. I chose not to move. My feet are paper-white and will probably fall off soon. Let me break the sherry bottle against the desk and spear them with broken glass to make sure they can still bleed. God– damn– it– This fucking sherry bottle! Break, you mother!
It seems that the sherry bottle will not cooperate.
“Phew, for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself”
Turn to the side to vomit, baby, turn to the side.
Punt on the floor and keep on floating, baby, keep on floating.
Lose your balance, baby, lose your balance.
Crash down, down, down.
Crash down down.
I’m not passed out but now I’m prone. I can feel the blood trickle back into those frigid whore feet of mine. I might be drunk, but the pins keep pricking. The pain is going to make me …. The pain is making me …. Oh, golly, I want to marry this feeling. And there it goes, slowly, slowly away. Sign. And here are these feet again and I’m still on the floor.
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