The Drivel Thread

[Light Housework]

Good night Morrissey. I'm going to try to sleep now. I hope to have a great dream of you.

 

[Light Housework]

I did a bit of research into what that medical technician jabbed me with, and suspect that this quote I found might describe it. "The most potent chemical carcinogens require only a single injection in young mice to induce a high incidence of lymphomas, often thymic T-cell lymphoblastic lymphomas.” A high incidence, so there is a chance that my immune system will fight it off, whatever he injected me with. I know he injected something that stung for two minutes after the fact. It was a distinct sensation, although I will never be able to prove it because it’s a he said she said scene. I contacted a lawyer and he said it would be expensive and dangerous to proceed, and he turned me down. Time will tell whether what he put into me will grow or sputter out of gas. I seem to be quite healed, but I will be monitoring my body. It looks like I am left with a bright red scar. I don’t much care about that, so long as I have my health, apart from the mold infection in my lung that hasn’t been bothering me extremely much lately. The swollen capillaries in my right eye seem to be calming down, and my foot has completely recovered from being sprained. That only took about two days to heal. I want robust health like Morrissey clearly has, despite his throat diagnosis of, I forget what it’s called, but a potential precursor to cancer I guess. Barretts, I think it’s called. “I want to live and I want to love. I want to catch something that I might be ashamed of.” I’ve never caught anything from someone who loves me. Got anything Morrissey? Want my hand fungus I guess is growing slowly in the middle of my palms? So far it hasn’t spread to any other part of my body. Knock on wood. Maybe Baz was right and my eye redness was brought on by indulging my craving for beer. I’m back off it now, and the redness and irritation has receded, so he might be right. I hope he is. I hope that I don’t have lymphoma. I like to think I don’t, but that lab coated man standing in the food court before my appointment with him, the way he stood there at the top of the wheelchair ramp looking to me like he was gloating…combined with the sensations of him reaching into my gown and gouging, rubbing, and jabbing the skin on my chest…it’s ominous. I’m hoping to completely recover, and I can live with a scar. The experience has given me a desire to write about it and grow it into a fiction story, but I’ve only managed to eke out one paragraph. I don’t know when I will get down to it, or if I will. I’m overdue for a bath. My armpits smell like brewer’s yeast. Soon, soon.

 

[TheSmiths_1985]

My armpits smell like brewer’s yeast.

 

[Light Housework]

I’ve been reading yet another true story about a female psychopath man eater. It’s horrific. I feel my life’s horrific too, but, this guy really gets my sympathy for the way his ex wife put him through the meat grinder, so to speak, and I’m only halfway through the ebook. What a nightmare.

 

[Light Housework]

Life is f***in scary.

 

[Light Housework]

Kick that f***in bride down the aisle indeed.

 

[Light Housework]

The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores is the theme song for me today. I feel like such a pee on. But I’m going to brush my teeth soon and either paint or go for a walk, or both, in which order I don’t know. At least I gave my dog a pretty good life. I feel guilt for having put men, and then my internet addiction too, before him in importance though. It's too late now to be better for him. He would have been insane about Morrissey if he'd known him, and I'm sure vice versa. Oh, Morrissey, "I can feel, the soil falling over my head."

 

[Light Housework]

He was a good natured dog, once I stood up to him when he was teething and he kept biting my calves after showers. He was pretty mean to mark my legs up like that, but after I gave him that open handed slap on his backside, he became humble and fairly respectful. He grew to love me very much, and it was mutual, except I was addicted to men and the internet, and I know that put a damper on his happiness. Guilty. I did place myself between him and danger several times though, putting his well being before my own, at least three times. I have a dent in my thigh for taking a hit by a car. It was either him or me. There was no other way. I pride myself on that. The driver should be ashamed of himself though. He was willfully breaking traffic laws to teach me a lesson for being in his way when he wanted to make a left hand turn. I had just as much of a green light as he did, but he stupidly assumed I had a red light and was wrong for being in his way. He realized that night, that I’d been in the right, and he called me and told me that he was shaking because he realized he’d been in the wrong. I told him I would heal, but that he could fix my bent bike. After that, he stopped communicating with me, and so I called ICBC and found out that he’d been driving his girlfriend’s car. I saw his facebook profile not that long ago, with him groaning with pleasure at the anticipation of eating the ribs he was barbecuing. Sometimes the dent hurts. Not very often. I don’t regret choosing myself over my dog to take the oncoming car slamming into me. It’s one of the best things I ever did. I bet he’s never done anything like that. A very handsome small young man gave me his contact info and told me he saw what happened. I never contacted him though. Stupid me.

 

[Light Housework]

I Don't Want This Anymore

 

[Light Housework]

me reciting I Don’t Want This Anymore

 

[Light Housework]

Fed up with being roadkill.

 

[Light Housework]

I must learn to write fiction tonight.

 

[Light Housework]

At the restaurant again.

 

[Light Housework]

Vegan Satay

 

[Was I ever any good]

Looks good enough to eat Shazzbo

 

[Light Housework]

Looks good enough to eat Shazzbo

I just walked home. It was a good batch. Lots of sliced mushrooms. I’m full. The place was packed, but I enjoyed myself. I’ve got a brand new attitude. It’s a secret. It’s been fun to use it so far. I walked energetically there and back. Tonight I'm going to make myself spend one hour trying to write a fictional story, and I'm going to paint. No sign of Morrissey out there, as usual. I felt like making a face here. With my new attitude putting me in the groove to mess around.

 

[Light Housework]

I'm Ready To Look Her In The Eye

 

[Redacted]

I contacted a lawyer and he said it would be expensive and dangerous to proceed, and he turned me down.

 

[Light Housework]

me reciting I’m Ready To Look Her In The Eye

 

[Light Housework]

Strange patch of skin
Eye irritation
What’s happening
Gaining ground
I know I remember
What I saw heard felt

It’s so easy to dismiss
When it doesn’t happen to you
But it happens all the time
Someone walking past me
The body language
Not respectful

He rules by transgressing
Inducing fear of him
Avoiding his wrath
And wrath is all he has
But I’m inspired to write
About such a man

See what tale gets told
He wasn’t wearing a lab coat
But a religious symbol of status
I think of Columbine
The bad boy murders
Think themselves very sexy

The dark grave beckons
Like a syphilitic prostitute
Like a married man three times your age
Who thinks he’s all the rage
For infecting girls underage
Starting with a warm comforting embrace

In front of fellow victims
He twofold impregnates
Don’t tell him you aborted him
Kill the syphilis
Hear him tell you he just got a clean bill of health
His niece lost an ovary

I was lucky because I felt contagious and clammy
Incubation stage syphilis
Three barrels of penicillin in the buttocks
Of a sixteen year old sweet girl
Caught early she was lucky
But now what is happening

When she’s sixty
And still hasn’t lived
Alone without the dreamboat
Mental health workers for friends
It’s time to fantasize
Gather together joyfully mournfully

Over vegan food
She said excuse me
What is that
I said Satay
She said that’s what she’s having next time
I gave my booth away

So three could sit
I took the tiny table voluntarily
Moving my things
The appreciative old Asian man
Offered to help
But I was already doing well on my own

It was an oasis
All these people gathered in one place
Trying to leave animals in peace
Playing with food and drink
What can we do
With the lab coated techie

The bulldozer on the sidewalk
Driven by a power tripper
In his religious Columbine garb
Angry raging fury sprayed in my face
No sidewalk left for me
I slink home to lick my wounds

Hoping I will strike a goal for my team
Before I’m hooked to the pulley
Held aloft with throat cut
They feel their boners engorged at what they’ve done
But sorrow will come
Malcolm McDowell’s toothpicked open eyes

Sick to death of his own enterprise
The darkness comes to light
Exposed and known he’s full of fright
But merciful we are
Once the danger’s stopped
The dolphins are forgiving

Though they never forget
Who’s in charge now
Let’s stay roots deep
This way with imagination
Unblocked communication
In the packed restaurant