Tuesday, December 27, 2011

If you do it again

And then the good song comes on: "if you do it again, I'm going to freak out." If you do it again. I'm going to freak. Out. The cold air outside, and I'm thinking let this wind blow it at all out of me – the pain, the exhaustion, the bloating, this sinking sad feeling I woke up with, the wondering if I'm dying, the wondering why no one seems to care about this thallium that’s in my tissues, the wondering why I keep seeing this doctor except desperation, that's it desperation, the desperation, I'm thinking let this wind blow it all away. But then it gets too cold, and I go back inside, wondering if I should get back in bed, but it's too cold, too cold in bed, or in that room at least – at night I like to go to sleep in a cold room but not now.

And then this song, the good song comes on, okay, maybe this is what Davka means about how hope emerges from my writing about feeling hopeless, that's not what she said exactly what I feel: hopeless. What I felt, when I woke up. What I feel, thinking about this thallium, what is it, does it matter? Can’t something get better? I'm leaving in something like 24 days; I wanted to feel better before I left, I mean at least better than this. But then there's the song, all the drumming at the end, all the drumming at the end, all the drumming and I need to eat but at least I have this song.

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