I hit the send button and stared at the floor. The soil hiding colors fade to the dissociative images in my head playing out the possible outcomes of calling the shrink. I pick up the phone and start dialing but the handset informs me that the batteries are out. I decide to ride to Boulder Ink and make an appointment. As I hit play on my iPod and Tom Waits Bone Machine starts banging away a sense of elation overcomes me and I realize that I have nothing to hide anymore. I have lived my life in censorship for fear of what I might do. If I embarrasse myself or hurt myself, or worse, find someone who likes me I have nothing to loose. The biggest loss is living this life of quite desperation and slowly drifting into the path of subconscious "accidents". I have nothing to loose, nothing of value.
Later after I leave the Trident, after a feavered lunch, my blurry crazed eyes see peoples heads turn as I shout down Pearl street for Ben. (Apparently he came into the Trident looking for his backpack, which I had when he last saw it.) Now I start to realize that I am totally nutters and I am stuck with this reality sensing head, and this anker construced of logic and the inability to form "attachments" (to use the parlance of Psych) or even to converse on any level with anyone.
But then my roomates friend comes down to check out the situation, as I am playing my music loudly, I actually talk to her and am able to leave places in the conversation for her to respond, and I am able to participate without withdrawing as I usually do. I feel drunk yet I have had nothing. We are going to Rev Horton Heat I think. We have absinthe, and Bens number I hope. Perhaps I can repay Ben for the favor last sat night...
Just a little story, wierd but true.
Im practicing my story telling ability. Can you tell me where I could have used more imagry? Where did I loose you?
Evening Addendium:
I wen to Rev Horton Heat and moshed my brains out to music from my youth. It was great fun to have all of humanities sweaty flesh and interpersonal grace (when people fell the whole pit pulled them up) driven into the cor of your being at the point of an elbow.
I have added some pics to the Miscelanous folder of the aftermath. All the visable wounds are self inflicted, but got torn open in the melee. I also chipped a tooth and sustained several bruses that have yet to become visable.
All the signs of a good time!
Later after I leave the Trident, after a feavered lunch, my blurry crazed eyes see peoples heads turn as I shout down Pearl street for Ben. (Apparently he came into the Trident looking for his backpack, which I had when he last saw it.) Now I start to realize that I am totally nutters and I am stuck with this reality sensing head, and this anker construced of logic and the inability to form "attachments" (to use the parlance of Psych) or even to converse on any level with anyone.
But then my roomates friend comes down to check out the situation, as I am playing my music loudly, I actually talk to her and am able to leave places in the conversation for her to respond, and I am able to participate without withdrawing as I usually do. I feel drunk yet I have had nothing. We are going to Rev Horton Heat I think. We have absinthe, and Bens number I hope. Perhaps I can repay Ben for the favor last sat night...
Just a little story, wierd but true.
Im practicing my story telling ability. Can you tell me where I could have used more imagry? Where did I loose you?
![confused](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/emoticons/confused.9b1223c913e4.gif)
![confused](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/emoticons/confused.9b1223c913e4.gif)
![confused](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/emoticons/confused.9b1223c913e4.gif)
![confused](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/emoticons/confused.9b1223c913e4.gif)
![confused](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/emoticons/confused.9b1223c913e4.gif)
Evening Addendium:
I wen to Rev Horton Heat and moshed my brains out to music from my youth. It was great fun to have all of humanities sweaty flesh and interpersonal grace (when people fell the whole pit pulled them up) driven into the cor of your being at the point of an elbow.
I have added some pics to the Miscelanous folder of the aftermath. All the visable wounds are self inflicted, but got torn open in the melee. I also chipped a tooth and sustained several bruses that have yet to become visable.
All the signs of a good time!
![biggrin](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/emoticons/biggrin.b730b6165809.gif)
![](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/ph-508.604ed20cffa9.gif)
![robot](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/emoticons/robot.fb056bc6fb87.gif)
![skull](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/emoticons/skull.4242d54c7e24.gif)
![robot](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/emoticons/robot.fb056bc6fb87.gif)
as for self-medicating with pain, i do that too. a little too much lately. ugh.
as far as the lip ring: i say get one. the reaction my boss had to it was kinda funny: he didn't mind when i got my labret pierced and wore that to work, but when i got the side pierced and had a RING in it? he hated that. so...i take it out at work, i've had it long enough so it doesn't close up... my boss is an odd guy.