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Sunday, March 24, 2013

Blessed Curse

Blessed Curse

     In the beginning....., such words.   He sat, thought, and a sulleness creeps across his existence.  How often this scenario repeated itself.  In a chair at a residence, not a home.   In a parked car, at a secret lake in late fall, beginning of winter.   Another parked car in a department store parking lot.   So tired.  Nothing extraordinary about him.  Again, on a lonely stretch of forgotten road, next to a decaying structure, someone called home once, it seems.   In the middle of a place of death, surrounded by the monuments that mark those sleeping, waiting.  What, was he seeking?   There were many times he should have died, he thought.   What, stopped that from occuring?  Pain, marks your life sometimes, he thought.   Less than 8 years old, can't remember the exact year of his life, an act of play, turned quickly into a night of pain.   Pain of falling, smashing face first into a table, screaming.  A trip to the hospital, the gash, tear and hole in the chin that shouldn't have been there, now, being sown back together.  Without numbing or sleep.  He remembers, or likes to imagine he does, that he passed out from the white-coated practitioner hovering above him, with needle and thread in hand fixing his mouth.  So many injuries to his mouth.   Seems strange. 
     A deadly bout of scarlet fever.  Blistered his mouth, so bad his lips cracked and bled.   Couldn't even remember if I had even started school yet, or maybe just, he chuckled.   Pain in the mouth, he couldn't even open it fully to bite and chew the Filet-O-Fish sandwich he had just gotten from McDonalds at the time.  Odd, that is the memory he had, from that terrible time of the fever.  Not the late night dunking in an icy bath, by parents who could barely touch him from the heat coming from his body.  Sure, that wasn't pleasant, but it was the memory of not being able to open his mouth wide enough to partake of that American delicacy from McD's, the delicious Filet-O-Fish.  Another injury to the mouth.   Why? 
     Stranger still, now, even with all that damage and more to come later, even now.  Speaking has never been a problem.  It sure seem like there should have been, but no.  He speaks, well.  So well you wouldn't even know there had been a problem at all.

Today
     It started as a cloud.   Always seems to start as a cloud.  Leviathan becomes angry when he is not fed.  An cloudy, foul smelling emanation, that seems to not have a source.   I haven't been feeding the lord of the abyss, and he is running amok.   I keep seeing a phrase, or is it hearing a phrase?   My mind, ears and eyes link.  Strange feeling.   The eyes snap shut on China.  Watch China enter darkness.   Strange, he thought.   Seeing a smoke then will come the fire. 
     I am full of wine, again, he softly spoke to himself.  Giggling, as he usually does when the cloud envelopes him and makes him safe. 

Deathurday
    
     Walked through a place of death on the earth.   Things, grotesque things, made to look alive.  Many, many others there.   My beloved was there.  The beautiful one was there.   As always, I walk through crowded surroundings, standing out, but no one looks.   I've always wondered that, about myself, the way I can be.   No one looks towards, only away and I stand out, or maybe I used to.  Not so much anymore, now that I am melting.   So much walking.   My feet ache, but I continue on.  I adore this place.   The living, walking amongst the dead, and neither take notice that death walks among them both.   It would be poetic, if it were not so funny, to me.  I brought, family brought, friends brought, images back with them from this place and I notice some were not allowed to fully attend.  Strange.  They had to wait for us to come back.   I, as always, did not want to return.  I am home there.   Lonely though.


Continues later....
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