A few things that’ve been percolating nicely in the drafts repository.
It hurts where I LIVE
You know you’re retarded sick when your eyes hurt. That’s right, retarded sick. I’ve been sleeping all day, my nose is stupid red, an entire roll of toilet paper is crumpled up into little wads next to my bed, and my body can’t make up its mind what temperature it wants to be. Right now I feel hot AND I’m sweating, a rare bit of consistency from an otherwise barely functioning wreck of a thing. Too high, you say? Well fuck you, body. You wanted it hot, and that’s what you’re going to get you son of a bitch.
I catches me off guard that I can’t talk. If you go a good 12 hours without speaking to anyone it suprises you when you try and find you can’t.
It occurs to me that this might seem like I’m begging for pity so let me explain how my life is still better than yours.
a smile and an erection
First off, location, location, location. I get to be sick as a dog in NYC. If there were a place in the world to not be able to enjoy, NY is the one you’d get the most non-enjoyment from. The awesome job I’m staying home from, and that isn’t paying me while I do, is also awesome.
The one time I left my house today I went to the grocery store and bought about $25 of canned soups. Why? Because my mommy isn’t going to make soup for me on account of being thousands of miles away. She doesn’t even have to know I’m sick. You know what freedom from parental nagging tastes like? It tastes like Progresso Vegetable Minestrone. High in saturated awesome.
So don’t cry for me Argentina. The truth is I wrote this months ago and I’m healthy as all fuck now. The cans of soup that once filled my cabinets are a distant memory, and instead of a painfully dried out mouth in the morning I wake up to a smile and an erection.
Continue reading “Collected writings of disease”