Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, 12:55am
I look around as I sit on my bench, my back propped up against the wall, candles adding to the fabric shaded glow of the brass wall lamp behind me. Hats hanging, coats in the closet, curtains closed. My Sanctuary, my Sacred Space. A perfect solitude, mine, finally. I lock the world out tonight, and tomorrow I’ll be better for it, better for this time spent, finally alone – finally, truly, my very own space. Gods, it’s been far too long. The van didn’t really cut it.
It takes so very little to pretend that I am living on a boat. The whisper of the cars going by is the sound of small waves splashing against the hull, or sometimes the distant crashing of the waves on the shore of a remote and empty harbor. The interior is not at all unlike many of the smaller boats I have been on, with its wood and brass fixtures, the odd little rise in the ceiling somehow adding to it. I’m below deck right now, in the cabin. The sails are down, I listen to This Mortal Coil, my ass is starting to get sore because the damn bench is hard, and it’s a calm night…
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I stared at the pill for a while tonight before I took it. A little pink pill, once a day, is perhaps the thing that’s going to keep me alive a bit longer. After two years and three months being off meds, here we go again.
I found out that that the clinic just added acupuncture to the things that they offer, announced on a single flier in the waiting room. Wednesdays, 1- 4, walk in, no appointment necessary. I’m definitely going to check that out tomorrow, see how they are. I’ve been wanting to get on a regular acupuncture schedule for a long, long time, but my income is so unstable that even if I could afford a few appointments at another place, I wouldn’t have been able to maintain a regular schedule. This makes me all kinds of happy. Even if they solely treat for immunodeficiency wonkiness, that’s fine – I will be able to supplement it with treatments at Quan Yin for general health, and getting all of this shit back on track.
Yeah, It took beating me over the head with two severe infections in my leg to get me to listen to what The Great Ooh Ahh was trying to tell me, but it worked. Scared the fucking hell out of me, in fact. I realized that it wouldn’t be some little poof of smoke and I’d be gone, no simple little onething that would instantaneously slap me down with only enough energy to slide a blade, knowing all was said and written and done that could be. Nope. Not that clean, not that quick. A slow and disgusting decay which lacks horribly in any kind of grace, goddamnit, and really takes all the romance and beauty out of dying.
If this kind of death is that much of a pain in the ass, I’ll show you, motherfucker – I’ll live! HA! What’s the problem there, schpanky? Scythe getting a wee bit dull? Your death Kung-Fu is good, yes – but my Life Kung-Fu is far greater! Come back when you have something worth my time, and it better be really fucking good, because I’ll fight like hell until you get it right.
And I know how to fight for life.
(Which, I just realized, that along with the omnipresent Yum, are the two most important mantras in the battle for life. When you get out of bed each morning, tuck your leg under and allow yourself to fall a few inches to the floor before your foot hits. As you do this, enjoy the ride and shout “WHEEE!” then, as your house-mate yells at you for waking them up because you didn’t realize that I only meant shout in a sense that fits your surroundings, stand up, stretch to the sky with your arms raised and with a really big internal smile say “Yum”. Have it reverberate inside of you – kind of like Om but yummier, ya dig? Then go about your day. Keep the Yum. Wheee whenever appropriate, whenever possible – like riding BART or whatever your form of PT is, or if you happen to stumble if you’re walking – that’s a great wheee! Getting the picture?)
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I received a message today from a friend who helped me out by purchasing a couple of my photographs a while back. Thanks to Nightshade, they were printed up quickly, but due to the turmoil and constant change (flux?) in my life it took me far too long to actually send them to her, but finally, recently, I did, head over heels with apologies for the time it took to get them to where they needed to be. About a week after I sent them she emailed me again, asking again where they were, and I started to get worried that they were lost in the mail, and needing to start the whole process again…
I received a message today, she said that the photos had finally arrived. They arrived just shortly after her cat, a girl of 20 years, finally passed on.
I am a firm believer in “everything happens for a reason”, but even though this was due to my lack of getting things done and then the US Mail, this is glaring.
My photo of The Virgin now adorns the altar she has created for her cat, and the other, the first addition to her new home which she just moved into.
Everything happens for a reason, we are all connected, and there is no such thing as coincidence. Boo boo pe doo.
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Now, it is time to sleep, or at least stop writing.
My boat lists a bit to starboard. I fall asleep to Dead Can Dance and This Mortal Coil. I took drugs that apparently create strange dreams, and I’m looking forward to joining them.
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