Monday, September 26, 2011

I don't even know

Let's start today with a rhyme: 12 hours in bed, better off – no, honey – not that rhyme. Let's start over: once there was a girl, who moved to the desert. This is what desperate people do: we move to the desert. Some of us, anyway.

Sometimes it helps: it has not helped me. That much we can say for sure. I mean helped in the literal, immediate way – the rest, who knows. But in the literal, immediate way – oh my, I feel worse. And worse.

Yesterday I took a chelating agent to test for heavy metal toxicity – it allegedly washes the metals out of your tissues and into your urine, so then I was studying my urine to see, as if there would be little glinting specks of mercury left over from childhood thermometers, fillings in my teeth, staring back at me through the acrid yellow. EDTA – that's the name of the chelating agent. It made be so dried out, that I couldn't possibly drink enough water, and then strangely I was pissing less, which made me a little worried like the chelating agent was stuck in my body, until it got back to normal, later on in the day, and then today when I woke up, spit something into the sink of course it was a dark red, blood again from all that dryness. All this dryness in the air – I love that two weeks we had when it would rain almost every day, but that probably won't happen again until next year.

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