Just a little something I wrote a while back.
The Last Day
I was on the floor. Today was the last day of my life and somehow I think I knew it. Parts of the night before came in and out of my memory. Friends, lots of drinks, a big party to celebrate one more day of life, strippers and dance music.and here I lie, the result of a drunken night. This hardwood rough on my back, the uncomfortable hangover. Megan makes me sleep on the floor or the couch when I am drunk, she cant stand my snoring. I frisk myself to find a lighter, some change, my wallet and a half empty pack of smokes. The process of gathering all these things seems to take forever, slow indirect movement over my body. But the real challenge was getting the cigarette out of the pack, this seemed to take hours, but thats how it is when you are in extreme hangover mode. I inhale deeply and once again remind myself that I need to quit.
Water, water, water. I need to hydrate desperately after all the Yeager and Vodka, but all the energy I have is focused on staying awake and inhaling my little fix. Slowly, slowly, slowly I muster the energy to roll over and pick myself up. I look around and ask myself where I amthe liquor has taken all my memory for the next few hours. Megans room is where I am, and I am suddenly curious about how much I really had to drink. Shes dead asleep under her covers, and I am still very drunk it seems. I walk to her bed and I can feel the relentless dust under my toes that all hardwood floors have. The sheets are covering her from the butt down, her back and shoulders exposed. Never in my life have I seen something this beautiful. For a second I contemplate calling National Geographic. The incoming headache quickly throws that thought astray.
Her faint tan lines of a bikini top I can see, a tattoo of something from her mind big and proud is between her shoulder blades, but I have no idea what it isit looks tribal but not all in the same. I asked her after our first night together what it meant. She said she couldnt explain it with words, but that it symbolized the love felt between two people. I want to crawl in bed with her and lay there forever. To forget about the cancer and the Last Day celebration, to just hold her and die that way if necessary. When the doctors told me about my brain tumor I spent large amounts of time thinking about how I wanted to die. Suicide or jumping from a bridge. With family in a hospital room, while the machines plugged into me sound of as an orchestra of beeps. Maybe laying on a beach in Australia letting the sun consume me while my brain tumor has its way with me. Maybe I want to die saving someone elses life. But at this very moment, standing over Megan I realize I want to die with her in my arms, above all else. That is my idea of heaven.
Copyright 2004
The Last Day
I was on the floor. Today was the last day of my life and somehow I think I knew it. Parts of the night before came in and out of my memory. Friends, lots of drinks, a big party to celebrate one more day of life, strippers and dance music.and here I lie, the result of a drunken night. This hardwood rough on my back, the uncomfortable hangover. Megan makes me sleep on the floor or the couch when I am drunk, she cant stand my snoring. I frisk myself to find a lighter, some change, my wallet and a half empty pack of smokes. The process of gathering all these things seems to take forever, slow indirect movement over my body. But the real challenge was getting the cigarette out of the pack, this seemed to take hours, but thats how it is when you are in extreme hangover mode. I inhale deeply and once again remind myself that I need to quit.
Water, water, water. I need to hydrate desperately after all the Yeager and Vodka, but all the energy I have is focused on staying awake and inhaling my little fix. Slowly, slowly, slowly I muster the energy to roll over and pick myself up. I look around and ask myself where I amthe liquor has taken all my memory for the next few hours. Megans room is where I am, and I am suddenly curious about how much I really had to drink. Shes dead asleep under her covers, and I am still very drunk it seems. I walk to her bed and I can feel the relentless dust under my toes that all hardwood floors have. The sheets are covering her from the butt down, her back and shoulders exposed. Never in my life have I seen something this beautiful. For a second I contemplate calling National Geographic. The incoming headache quickly throws that thought astray.
Her faint tan lines of a bikini top I can see, a tattoo of something from her mind big and proud is between her shoulder blades, but I have no idea what it isit looks tribal but not all in the same. I asked her after our first night together what it meant. She said she couldnt explain it with words, but that it symbolized the love felt between two people. I want to crawl in bed with her and lay there forever. To forget about the cancer and the Last Day celebration, to just hold her and die that way if necessary. When the doctors told me about my brain tumor I spent large amounts of time thinking about how I wanted to die. Suicide or jumping from a bridge. With family in a hospital room, while the machines plugged into me sound of as an orchestra of beeps. Maybe laying on a beach in Australia letting the sun consume me while my brain tumor has its way with me. Maybe I want to die saving someone elses life. But at this very moment, standing over Megan I realize I want to die with her in my arms, above all else. That is my idea of heaven.
Copyright 2004
cheshire:
so awesome. 