Friday, January 13, 2006

The Last 24 Hours

Last night I had dreams that I was hanging with Ronald Reagan, me and the prez, and we were just chillin' in our hotel but I had to go catch a flight to see my Ma so I was like HEY YOU WANNA SHARE A CAB TO THE AIRPORT? But he didn't really say anything so I go THAT'S COOL CAUSE YOU PROLLY GOT THAT LIMO THING GOIN' CAUSE YUR LIKE, THE PRES.I.DENT.

So I leave but the Alzheimer's is setting in and Mr. Reagan wanders back to me and doesn't know where he is or what is going on, as least it seems that way cause he isn't really saying much and we have to dodge all these zombies and living-dead guys who are running around with their arms out in front of them, clothes in tatters and everywhere I go I have to tug the ex-prez with me but its fine cause the zombies aren't moving very fast being that they're dead and all... and I decide we are safest if we stay near the Japanese tourists who are taking pictures cause they love cheesy horror so they are moving slow enough to get caught before us.

And I am running up and down these steep snowy hills with a boy from Chicago I used to have a big crush on till we run back into this town which is all dark and medieval and dingy... try to find a bar, some place where we can just be happy to see each other, where vampires and cranks and creepy dead automatons wont bug us by killing us. And I still have to go see my mama.

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Today am consumed with an irksome and onerous weariness of life. Always back where I started, cant force myself into bed, dislike waking, feel fleet footed like an iron diving suit 54 gazillion trillion gallons deep under the water. That is some heavy water man, laborious and unnerving. Maybe I can do a little wiggle and a shimmy and it will all make sense. I bought a little black book to write in. I wrote MEDITATE. POSTURE. SING.

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The owners daughter wants to be a waitress when she grows up.
NO YOU DON'T.
YES I DO... WHY DON'T I?.
BABY YOU CAN DO SO MUCH BETTER.

She takes her empty juice box, cuts the top off, drops in a pink carnation leaf, a red carnation leaf and a rose petal from the flower arrangements in the restaurant. She takes one green-tea candy and a tamarind candy, sucks on each briefly before dropping them in with the flowers, one toothpick, a corner of a dinner ticket, a tiny slash of soda. She works intently with the scotch tape sealing the top then shakes the box vigorously.

To keep my attention the box becomes a yesorno box (ask me anything), a fortune telling box... a wish granting box! I ask a few easy questions, get a few yeses... figure I got it made, then she frowns.

NO.
WHAT? WHAT NO? WHY NO? That was not the no I wanted.
HE SAYS NO *shrug*
(I am terrified of this NO).
She shakes him again.
HE SAYS HE LOST ALL HIS POWER.
OH I say casually trying to look like I am just trying to look interested to be polite.
WAIT, HE SAYS YOU HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOUR WISH IS AND MAYBE HE CAN HELP YOU.
EVERYONE KNOWS YOU CANT TELL YOUR WISHES TO ANYONE.

She shakes the box a few times and then pretends it is walking across the counter, a sauntering pretend walk, then a few hops. She shakes it at me. I whisper my wish to the box this time, instead of asking my fortune to be predicted.

HE SAYS NO I am devastated, my future shattered by the whims of a 7 year old girl. She shakes the box again.
WAIT shakes and listens HE SAY YOU WILL HAVE TO THINK OF YOUR WISH EVERY DAY FOR YOUR WISH WILL COME TRUE *shake,shake*
(in my little black book I add the word VISUALIZE)

She stares at the box for a second with a pensive look
I HOPE HE IS NOT LYING
The juice box saunters up to me, takes a tentative hop on my forearm.
HE WANTS A HUG.
OH HE DOES, DOES HE.
I straighten up, stretch a bit, arrange a stack of menus, swab the counter. For a moment we forget the box. She runs into the kitchen to get something. I look around, pick up the juice box and give it a little squeeze under my arm, incognito like. I cant take any chances.

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Still earthbound. I went to the gym after work, the out-of-doors still under flood warning and severe weather alert. Back in my car, a new voicemail. JUST CALLING TO SAY I AM MADLY IN LOVE WITH YOU. When I got home he was listening to rock opera in the dark. I opened all the windows and doors, burned incense. Then kissed him.

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