The blaring white light flashes across my face - heat upon heat upon heat upon heat as the box cars rumble beneath my feet once again. My jaw clenches my Lucky Strike so hard the tobacco falls onto my tongue - leaves bitter taste. Click clack click clack click clack click clack - the locomotive rushes below me like a steel behemoth - make up your mind before it's too late - the end is near. As fast as it had appeared it is gone and I am left in cold darkness - the train is now nothing but a small red light in the distance and a faint howl of the klaxon.
I stand on the rim of the bridges precipice - blinking the dust and tears and walk into the night. I walk the twelve blocks to the El Paso psychiatric Center. NO WALK INS. I call the 1-800 number and between sobs admitted - faceless surgeons armed with razors cut out my imagination - popping psychotropic pills with left hand - signing reams of paperwork with my right hand. Stripped to my dry goods by a leering and obese fairy porter and handed my tattered hospital gown - I am escorted by said porter and some goon to my room. Amid howling and screams I try to sleep, but it don't come.
4:35 a.m. 'Time to take your blood pressure.' Why not? I say head all groggy and lift arm like putty and not knowing where I am and not really caring - more pills are taken. I lay down and my head is throbbing - but there is a big black hole back there. And I can't remember what was there - you know?
So, Dr. Sahid strolls in all smiles and has viscous nurse takes blood in the worse way - cause I'm a fag and I gotta be tested for germs, because that's what we got, right - but the bitch goes probing for a vein like a rube and a diggin' and I'm starin' and I ask with raised eyelid "First time?" In which she yanks the needle out and jabs - jabs! - the fucker in the other arm and draws blood from the good arm. I'll say it here for the sake of future generations and I'll say it country simple - I HATE WOMEN. THE VIRUS OF THIS PLANET! NEVER LIKED THEM - NEVER WILL!
Anyway - back to the story in progress - I return whimpering to my cubicle - fucking cunt - I lay on my stinking cot in a room that reeks of vomit head spinning like numb cotton. Every so often orderlies come and ask me something - voice muffled - I just answer "I'm okay." They could be asking, "Did you murder that little girl behind the 7-11 the other day?" - I'm okay.
Shuffled with the rest of the retards to eat. Poo on a plate. Mmmm. Some spaz decided to go theatrical and flung his Martian Dinner all over the cafe. Ugh. If I had half a mind I would of - well I didn't so I just sat there and watch with medicated numbed atrophy like everyone else.
There was a large part of my stay that was a gray screen - just a blur. Numb. Nothing. A part that was taken out of my brain - I can't remember anything. Hmmm? All I know is, the following morning I had enough of this crazy shit and walked up to the head nurse and demanded with a stern eye - well saggy and bloodshot - an immediate discharge. The doctor agreed. And 12 hours later - amid torrid rains and crashing thunder, I was in the back of a yellow cab returning to my apartment.
My life is crazy. Or is it just me?
1 comment:
It's just you.
I kid. Sorry the loony bin didn't work out -- glad you're out of there. And nice to see you writing here again.
So how about Costa Rica, anyway?
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