My driver today has an affliction with her throat.  When she talks she constantly sounds like she is gasping for breath and is seconds from collapsing.  It can also sound like she is a B film porn star gasping her words out in orgasmic sighs and huffs and noises.  Not a very nice affliction to be stuck with.  Makes my toeless foot not sound so bad.  This woman is entertaining in how dizzy she is and how mishaps seems to just gather around her.  She was lowering me out of the van the other day and I heard her beeper go off and it sounded like it was way up in front of the van.  I said something to her and sure enough it was her beeper nowhere near the van and neither one of us could figure out how it got in the middle of the parking lot.  

While at physical therapy today there was a woman on the reclining exercise bike that had lost the will to live completely.  You could see it in her face.  

I could hear her desperate pleading, “I have this ridiculous belief in this God person that won’t let me kill myself.  Please kill me.  Kill me right now”.  

She could only do a couple pedals and then would gasp, “I can’t do this.  I just can’t do this”.

I don’t understand how anyone can give up on life.  What is there to compare it with.  Oh there is that two thousand year old book but come on now.  No one can live that just and right of  a life, so no one gets into heaven.

I reclined in my chair at dialysis today and read from the books I downloaded onto my tablet and read the news and watched Louis C.K.’s new comedy stand up and the four hours being there just melted away.  I didn’t have to listen to the other’s talk about food continuously or eating, or restaurants, food, always about food or they read to each other the fucking Obituary and I’m not kidding.  They read the obituary to each other.

Dinner was shit again.  Man they don’t do bad on simple meals but they are always trying to keep it “lively” and “creative” and well frankly it sucks.  The lemon meringue pie was delicious but I’m not supposed to have it so I don’t know why it was on my tray.

I don’t complain enough.  That’s the problem.  The two guys next to me are always bitching about something and they always have people in their room helping them out, I think, it seems that way, maybe i’m just making it all up.  The nurses and aides are really very nice to me.  They sometimes don’t get in a hurry with me but they are nice.  I think they know that I don't’ get upset.  I just let it roll off of me like rain water.

The little cafe’ here, called The Bistro does a great job.  I usually go there and buy something to eat.

They give me this big pitcher of ice.  I sit and incessantly eat ice.  I love to chew it up and get it embedded in my teeth and let it melt.

My God I need a change in my life.  I need to break out of here.  Where the hell are Aardvark Diggs and Annie Cosmic when I really need them.  I need them to come and we’ll kick some serious ass and break me out of this place.  I need to have a place to call home and go there  and take a nap and listen to some music and go the the market and have as close to a normal life as I can.

Fuck man, i’m going for a walk.

Going for a walk in a nursing home / (slash) rehab center really won’t help if you are in a funk mood.  The sheer complete and profound reality of it all just comes crashing against you with every open door and the occasional smells that you pick up that you know just aren’t healthy smells.

Yes it’s all closing in.  I am feeling the walls getting closer and the terror that this is what my life will be now.  The thing that frightens me the most are those days when I am depressed and I really don’t find anything wrong with spending the rest of my life like this.

Thursdays are slow days.  Nothing is scheduled and nothing is planned except for physical therapy so all I really want to do on Thursdays is sleep and listen to music.  The fascinating part of it all is that never really is the way it goes.   Something always comes up and I find myself doing it.

The two guys in the room next to me are perfect examples of why I believe that most men are just shit.  We are not as evolved as the female of the species.  The problem is that we are brutish and mean and it still works to our favor for the most part.  I would like to state that I believe that I don’t follow this type of behavior in my own life anymore.

They are loud and arrogant. They bark at the aide and nurses and complain about everything and the thing that amazes me the most is the way the aides and nurses jump at these fuckwits commands.  Maybe when thought over with more detail none of us have all that much.

I’ve been telling the kitchen to just give me a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup for dinner more often.  I can’t stand all the weird “old people” food they keep preparing.  I like food to be simple for the most part.  Oh I love very fancy cooking but keep it simple

Keep it simple seems to be the only thing that makes sense anymore.

Today is Friday.  I have dialysis, then go to the market and then come back to the home where I will be hooked up to IV Antibiotics and then completely ignored when the god damn thing starts beeping and let me tell you so far it’s been a perfect day.  Everything that was going to happen has happened.

Today was a strangely stressful day at the market.  The smokers want a better place to kill themselves.  The crazy old teacher vendor was on a constant mindscape today coming up with some unbelievably strange things.  Bird is deathly ill and Bee says she is sick again but i don’t really believe her.  I think she is just depressed.

I wrote and printed off the letter to give to the big vendor of mine that will probably motivate him to leave but I decided to wait till tomorrow to put it on his desk.

Back at the nursing home waiting for the nurse to unhook me from this fucking IV I am getting the start of a ferocious headache.

Interestingly enough I haven’t been recovering, getting better, feeling better, blah, blah, blah long enough to not have it scare me just a little when things start to ache or hurt or I’m sick to my stomach, and on and on.  I wonder if it will ever pass.

cool peace

hippy mike

love

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