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i went outside to the porch. i was outside. it was dark. there was cake. a highly structured cake. fancy.
i ate it. some of it.
i had wanted to eat all of it. but it was too rich to finish. i saw leila come out and sit at the
community table between our houses. she had come out to smoke. she didnt see me. i could see her
father inside. the light in there looked natural and mellow. there were others but i couldnt see them well.
they were finished or finishing and getting up and leaving or cleaning up. her father was toshed.
i could see it in the way he was so sure of hisself.
i went to approach leila. we've had nice chats before. but then her husband came out with
his friends. leila dissapeared. he could be mean at times. he stood close behind me and kept blowing
smoke into my back. maybe my shirt was too white, maybe. i didnt say anything. for the times he hadnt
said anything, maybe.
we shared a joint. it was ok. it went on like usual. everyone occupied and vacant and occupied.
i went home and poured out a glass of water. then i poured myself a glass of water. the smile on my
face was indelible, tho i wasnt really amused by anything. i was dizzy actually. my facial muscles were
starting
to hurt a
little but i didnt hurt or feel it. i stood there in the kitchen, dizzy. it was dark.
i had to close my eyes before
i fell.
everything i saw was nauseating. i tried to set the glass on the countertop but it was difficult blind.
my points of relativity were weak.
i got some part of the glass down, probably one edge of the bottom. i didnt feel a spill. but it felt wrong
then i couldnt move. i stood there, eyes closed and gripping my mind. or grasping. or clutching.
i heard someone come into the kitchen. my mother. she came from our small dining room.
wat had she been doing there all this time? she walked past me staring. i must have looked ridiculous.
i was getting less dizzy now but i still kept my eyes closed and stood there. smiling haggardly.
i heard my mother talking in the living room. i realized an alarm had been going off the whole time.
it had been beeping occasionally but now it was pulsing in three beats every second. bip-bip-bip.
i heard my mother say, "help me move the couch". i went in to see if she was talking to me. there i saw
my mother and another person who looked exactly like my mother except with different clothes and
hairstyle. they were shoving the couch into the middle of the room, away from the wall.
they were having a fine time. i was scared. no scared.
i needed sleep. maybe, maybe. up in my room i layed down and saw a buzzing across
my screen. a fly landed on my pillow before me. if i tried to swat it, it would escape me. i had no
chance. but i had to do something. so i slowly made a bat at it. knowing i'd fail and not wanting to
feel foolish about it. when my hand was about 8 inches away i saw that it had not flown away and so made
a quick strike at it. it dodged easily. i felt foolish. it buzzed across my screen. i fell asleep.
i woke for a few seconds in the middle of the night, moaning with a pulsing erection. i'd risen asleep.
i woke for a few seconds in the middle of the night and passed some gas. it was a nice.
during a period of semi-lucidity, i felt a welling of saliva clogging my throat. i was the prisoner of
saliva. or a victim. i made gestures to spit it out but it was too heavy. i was trapped. i tried again
and again. i was tiring. it kept welling. more and more. i made the motions with my mouth. tensed the
correct muscles. but i couldnt ejaculate. finally thru my exertions i became conscious. and spit down the side of my bed.
i didnt care. emancipation can be like that. a physical priority. now i was up.
i was dazed. physical nightmares were the best. i savored the stun. it was gone quickly.
i make myself a drink. for things i cant not remember. cant not. CANT. NOT.
my tongue yearns to stretch. i want to pull it from my mouth. but then it passes.
CAN not. my tongue twister. it is difficult to say it, nowdays. can not. simplement.
maybe one day it will not pass. i wont be able to say it. and i can have the only real
once in a lifetime opportunity.
i can hear the frost. the dogs in the neighborhood go at it all night. one yells and all the others
rush to be second. it goes on for long enough to be recorded and marketed. suburbia reckons so.