Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Almost like another life

Sometimes my apartment is a different world, a different world than the world outside. Like I'm sitting on the fire escape, sitting in the sun I'm thinking I could sit here forever, Grant says but what about when the sun goes down? No, I mean forever like a dream, the sun wouldn't go down I wouldn't get burnt it wouldn't get too hot the air would always be fresh the sky clear no I like rain and fog too I could just keep sitting and getting wet but it would just feel refreshing.

But then disaster strikes -- Gina comes over, but she's just gotten her hair done they put something in her hair she already knows I'll probably be sensitive, even after she takes a shower it's like I'm suddenly surrounded by gloom. I go outside to get some air, except now it doesn't feel like there's any air. I'm trying to walk as slowly as I feel like walking instead of faster like I always end up doing accidentally, sensing how my feet can roll into the ground but it doesn't work. I still feel awful, everything starts to hurt even though I decided not to wear the jacket because the jacket holds my body tighter it doesn't matter everything’s pain now or actually it's just that I can sense it coming on, why? I can rarely tell before I leave the house. Sometimes I feel great, and then I go outside and my life is over. Other times I feel horrible, like I couldn't possibly walk more than a block, but then I walk eight blocks and I feel so much better.

Back at home, I can still smell the perfume from Gina's hair, probably it's on something in the bathroom. The neti pot, okay I'll cleanse my nostrils with the neti pot, then boil eucalyptus and then Florence is on the phone, she's worried about all the OxyContin Rose takes for pain, once you get on it you can't get off. She says you know Milton was a pharmacist, but I was like a Christian Scientist I didn't like to take any drugs. Sometimes I take half of a sleeping pill but then I don't dream, and I like dreaming it's almost like another life.

I check my email, to see what the guy from craigslist has to say about hooking up -- I emailed him a few days ago because I'd already called four times, twice we talked but he was always on the way to some bar. I kept saying call me whenever, but he didn't call. So I figured I'd email, just so he could say no I don't want to get together, maybe he couldn't say that over the phone. So I open up the inbox to see what he has to say. But he hasn't responded at all. Somehow that seems so much worse, I mean my mouth is just hanging open thinking what, he didn't even respond -- it's like I'm not even a human or anything, just something from craigslist and here I thought we had a fun connection. Okay, calm down Mattilda, maybe he's on vacation or maybe he just hasn't gotten around to responding yet. I kind of want to call him and read him, since he actually answers the phone, but then I can't decide whether it would be fun. I mean it doesn't sound like fun. I look through the paper to see if there are any movies I want to see, but there's nothing. I'm not the kind of person who goes to movies I don't think I'm going to like, unless I know that I need to critique them. But I need some sort of escape I don't know what.

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