Someone make it end please... The Pain.
The pain killers are beginning to make me sweat. There is a snake at the base of the table. kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk and the trial of... Josef k is on trial. And the base of the table that slithers around my ankles. I am sweating profusely. Tjos mek no sense. But there is no sense here only depraved thoughts that lurch out like chained watch dogs foaming at the mouth. poiipojklm police state... they are on to me.... the lattes sound like machine gus goin off in the night when Im sleeping. A heavy breast broad is taking notes in the corner. death is upon us in ways shouldnt fathom. Here I am going through the motions with my eyes half closed. The drugs do this. My neck is swollen and looks like I have swallowed a bottle of Heineken. We have a new pope who would like to see go to hell for yourllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll Ants have just crawled up my neck. and my vision went black. Is there lllll shoot it all at night when no ones looking. why am I sweating? Maybe its the infection. It started last friday and ended when Caldwell shot me in the head. When I fell backward my back molar split in half. It stayed this way till tuesday. Infection had already arrived in a tarantella waltz. The likes of which I refuse to listen. A phrase keeps running though my head like some bizarre mantra: He went to the tunnel but the tunnel was dark... He went to the tunnel but the tunnel was dark. It loops around my brain like a firefly the dark. I cant make a coherent thought. Perhaps this is part of the plan. A part of the thread, my personal torture. My neck is swollen. its hard to swallow. This is our church and it is here that we reenact the rites. He went to the tunnel but the tunnel was dark. Its here in the swollen throat that the sacrifice dies. The call note to a God you dont believe in. When I woke up this past morning I tried to recall the past events but theyre hazy from pain and drugs. No dentists are open on the weekends, so I had to self medicate. Took so much ibuprofen that I threw up. By Monday I had acquired Codein which still didnt work. Thats when I went to the emergency room and waited from 6:00pm to 5:30am. They never even looked at me. I just hobbled home and consumed the entire bottle of codein and waited for the morning. But I remember waiting in the waiting room of the emergency ward. Sitting there writhing. Rinsing my mouth with ice water because it was the only thing that would dull the pain. Then they stuck me in ward C where I kept rocking back and forth holding my jaw. There was a cop there who kept staring at me. You okay? I shook my head no. Of course youre not okay or you wouldnt be here. Whats wrong with you?
Broken tooth.
He looked at me suspiciously. Tooth ache? It was then that I recognized him. He was the cop who arrested me two months ago. Yes, it was definitely him.
He again began eyeing me suspiciously. Where you from? He asked.
122nd. I said.
So whyd you come here? Why not stay in Harlem.
Im on 122nd and Broadway. I said as if that should have
answer it. But still he seemed suspicious and confused.
Right... Broadway. He hooked his thumbs into his belt and stared at me some more and then looked around and then back at me. Theyre not gonna do anything for ya. You know that, right. You should have just stayed home and waited for Monday.
It is Monday, I said.
Thats what Im tryin ta tell ya. When you came here it was Sunday.
Right. At that point I was seized once again by extraordinary pain. The copper smiled and turned his attention else where. I tried to remember where I was arrested and for what?lklllllllllll kill kill kill kill killllllllllllllll phil. Who is Phil? What was I arrested for? Perhaps there was no reason at alljjjjjj. I thinkllllllllllllllllllllllllll and my mind goes blank and my fingers grow heavy. I keep passing out and seeing double. It must be fatigue, the infection and the drugs. Or maybe the weight of guilt.kkkkkkkkkkill K. ransack my mind for the missing clue... Missing missing. Yes I remember. I was arrested for pissing on the steps of Saint John the Divine church. And as if pissing on the church werent bad enough it was the very day that the pocky Pope shit the bed. I remember now trying to explain to the copper with my drunken logic, why it was okay: It wasnt a catholic church. I kept saying. Was I alone? Arent we all? The drugs are starting to wear off. I hope the antibiotics start working soon. My throat is bloat with the dead call note. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Again I have passed out. There is a dead bird in my throat. Soon the drugs will wear off and Ill be stuck with reality: Im married to a cockroach named, Molly. Is this a Christian union? And if so is it allowed? Which leaves me to wonder, how are we to copulate? Are we to join in the Ether for our ethereal trysts, to remain celibate here in order to fuck in the firmament. How do I explain this to my mother? Or anyone for that matter. They can never meet her. How could they. Ill have to secret her away in my shirt pocket. Or tucked behind my ear. Shell be my spiritual wife and well have vulcan mind melds... or some shit like that. Im in a pickle now. I hope shes not the jealous typeeeeee..
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
The pain killers are beginning to make me sweat. There is a snake at the base of the table. kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk and the trial of... Josef k is on trial. And the base of the table that slithers around my ankles. I am sweating profusely. Tjos mek no sense. But there is no sense here only depraved thoughts that lurch out like chained watch dogs foaming at the mouth. poiipojklm police state... they are on to me.... the lattes sound like machine gus goin off in the night when Im sleeping. A heavy breast broad is taking notes in the corner. death is upon us in ways shouldnt fathom. Here I am going through the motions with my eyes half closed. The drugs do this. My neck is swollen and looks like I have swallowed a bottle of Heineken. We have a new pope who would like to see go to hell for yourllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll Ants have just crawled up my neck. and my vision went black. Is there lllll shoot it all at night when no ones looking. why am I sweating? Maybe its the infection. It started last friday and ended when Caldwell shot me in the head. When I fell backward my back molar split in half. It stayed this way till tuesday. Infection had already arrived in a tarantella waltz. The likes of which I refuse to listen. A phrase keeps running though my head like some bizarre mantra: He went to the tunnel but the tunnel was dark... He went to the tunnel but the tunnel was dark. It loops around my brain like a firefly the dark. I cant make a coherent thought. Perhaps this is part of the plan. A part of the thread, my personal torture. My neck is swollen. its hard to swallow. This is our church and it is here that we reenact the rites. He went to the tunnel but the tunnel was dark. Its here in the swollen throat that the sacrifice dies. The call note to a God you dont believe in. When I woke up this past morning I tried to recall the past events but theyre hazy from pain and drugs. No dentists are open on the weekends, so I had to self medicate. Took so much ibuprofen that I threw up. By Monday I had acquired Codein which still didnt work. Thats when I went to the emergency room and waited from 6:00pm to 5:30am. They never even looked at me. I just hobbled home and consumed the entire bottle of codein and waited for the morning. But I remember waiting in the waiting room of the emergency ward. Sitting there writhing. Rinsing my mouth with ice water because it was the only thing that would dull the pain. Then they stuck me in ward C where I kept rocking back and forth holding my jaw. There was a cop there who kept staring at me. You okay? I shook my head no. Of course youre not okay or you wouldnt be here. Whats wrong with you?
Broken tooth.
He looked at me suspiciously. Tooth ache? It was then that I recognized him. He was the cop who arrested me two months ago. Yes, it was definitely him.
He again began eyeing me suspiciously. Where you from? He asked.
122nd. I said.
So whyd you come here? Why not stay in Harlem.
Im on 122nd and Broadway. I said as if that should have
answer it. But still he seemed suspicious and confused.
Right... Broadway. He hooked his thumbs into his belt and stared at me some more and then looked around and then back at me. Theyre not gonna do anything for ya. You know that, right. You should have just stayed home and waited for Monday.
It is Monday, I said.
Thats what Im tryin ta tell ya. When you came here it was Sunday.
Right. At that point I was seized once again by extraordinary pain. The copper smiled and turned his attention else where. I tried to remember where I was arrested and for what?lklllllllllll kill kill kill kill killllllllllllllll phil. Who is Phil? What was I arrested for? Perhaps there was no reason at alljjjjjj. I thinkllllllllllllllllllllllllll and my mind goes blank and my fingers grow heavy. I keep passing out and seeing double. It must be fatigue, the infection and the drugs. Or maybe the weight of guilt.kkkkkkkkkkill K. ransack my mind for the missing clue... Missing missing. Yes I remember. I was arrested for pissing on the steps of Saint John the Divine church. And as if pissing on the church werent bad enough it was the very day that the pocky Pope shit the bed. I remember now trying to explain to the copper with my drunken logic, why it was okay: It wasnt a catholic church. I kept saying. Was I alone? Arent we all? The drugs are starting to wear off. I hope the antibiotics start working soon. My throat is bloat with the dead call note. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Again I have passed out. There is a dead bird in my throat. Soon the drugs will wear off and Ill be stuck with reality: Im married to a cockroach named, Molly. Is this a Christian union? And if so is it allowed? Which leaves me to wonder, how are we to copulate? Are we to join in the Ether for our ethereal trysts, to remain celibate here in order to fuck in the firmament. How do I explain this to my mother? Or anyone for that matter. They can never meet her. How could they. Ill have to secret her away in my shirt pocket. Or tucked behind my ear. Shell be my spiritual wife and well have vulcan mind melds... or some shit like that. Im in a pickle now. I hope shes not the jealous typeeeeee..
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm