sorethroat

well, i'm home. again. to rescue my mother? something like that, i guess. it all began after i got off the bus, unbelievably so. my mother said "hang on a second" and strolled over to a man going through the trash of the nearby grocery store. as soon as i saw him, mop of curly grey hair, fashionably outfitted in dirty shorts and shirt, rusting pickup truck...i knew that it was her "friend" frank. the way she stood behind something so i couldn't see either of them. the stranger to whom i was not introduced. of course this would be her "boyfriend."

nauseous from the bus ride, and now my brain seemed to flush away thoughts and feelings like fluid. numb. and she talked and talked and talked, and i really just didn't...want...to...hear...it.

when my mother came to visit me for a few days, the talk was non stop. frank. my father. crazy. depressed. independence. teenage insolence. it made me spin. i just wanted to hear something else. something OTHER. i have set myself up for a month here, and i'm afraid of the things i'll hear. not the content; i know everything shocking and harmful and it really doesn't burn when it hits me. it's the quantity that counts now. she'll unload her heavy weight on me. i'm being paid to bear it.

meanwhile...

me? oh. me. yeah. well, i'm putting "me" on the backburner, because it seems that there is a lot of damage going on around me. so i am shutting up, and shutting down. i'm minimizing the complications of my life, i'm reducing that brain-liquid down in a simmering saucepan, and it is boiling down to things like essay. job. weight. no happy or sad. no on-pills or off-pills. no wants and needs. no goals and prospects. just...day. by day. by day. i think i should let everyone else do their fair share of thinking right now.

everybody, just sit and think. don't panic. don't fret. don't frenzy. just...think. maybe the menthol that's been numbing my throat has numbed my heart and brain, but damn. it feels good. because it feels like nothing.

last time***next time