Watching myself heal, it’s always gratifying. I heal with the speed of summer lightning, you can watch my cuts heal. I don’t mean like watching grass grow, I mean you can watch those things dry up and crust over in real time, it’s like a miracle, Lazarus came back from the dead slower than my cuts heal. About eight last night I cut myself on a can, inside the first joint of my left index finger, bad place to get cut, pretty deep, bleeding like a stuck pig, it was an ugly mess, hurt some too. I looked around for my antibiotic ointment and band-aids, I know they’re here somewhere, I couldn’t find them. I wondered if I should visit the clinic today, it’s free. By nine thirty the bleeding had completely stopped and it was kind of dried over. This morning it was fine. My body is amazing.
I had another gourmet dinner tonight, total cost three dollars. Some chicken, perfectly non-greasily fried, with crispy fried onions; a few sticks of marinated pork; delicious spicy papaya salad, the great Som Tam; some sticky rice; a small can of rambutans stuffed with pineapple. A couple of pops, and a nice English gangster movie on the big Samsung.
Went to the office today, got there about nine after a nice, leisurely breakfast at home. Had some Internet fun, talked to some of my friends, had a nice lunch of stir fried pork with garlic and some vegetables, left the office for home at two thirty, “to get home before the rain.” Took a nap.
Fact checking my lessons I’m even learning something. Just what is the difference between theft and larceny? It’s a close call. I always thought the law was interesting. Just don’t make me fight tooth and claw with those other lawyers, all at the mercy of those black robed devils.
So I suppose that I’ll stay with y’all for a while, no hurry to leave this corrupt shit-hole of a world, might as well wait for the real bad news from the doctor, might be a while yet, I have a good constitution, I’m interested in things, I manage to have some fun in between episodes of self-induced horror. Might as well give it more time, wait for a novel descendant or two, or the re-ignition of love. Stand back, Mr. Fred, dig yourself, chill. It could all take a while.
At least I enjoy sleeping.
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2 comments:
So this is what the manic side of being bipolar looks like. At least you're not running down the street ripping off your clothes, yet.
I remember in my callow youth when I'd get stoned, I'd examine my fingers for what seemed like hours, how wonderfully they moved, and think, wow, what a miracle I was.
Fast-clotting blood is a bad sign, too high a level of fibrogens, not what you want when a coronary artery plaque ruptures. Take an aspirin every day to keep it slowww, Joe.
That's good advice about the blood, Joe, thanks.
I know that I have a touch of the bipolar, but only a touch, nothing pathological. Mostly I am depressed, but I have always experienced periods when I would rise to mere anxiety and get very interested in something. It's always just been fun, though, no running down the street. I've seen that stuff happen, somebody'll sell all their stuff and give shit away, talking too loudly and being way too happy. That's a hassle right there.
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