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it was as if all of the stars had aligned, overnight, and conspired to lay before me a most horrible return to non-working life. the first glimpse in the mirror reflected the unmistakeable bed-hair coiffure of Don King. promptly (?) at ten-thirty AM, a crew from the water authority began digging in the lane, unannounced, making escape by car impossible... for days. and, nature called in its most undebatable way... monster porcelain damage from days of no courtesy trips to the foo foo factory. and there was no water. my mother, the joan crawford wannabe, needed moral support for her appointment for a CT scan of a neck abnormality, scored by much paranoid bitching about someone trying to find her a repairman for her perforated roof... "he's trying to take over! he just thinks he knows everything!" Slick Willie, the subject of the latter, vents about the former... "i'm not really worked up about this" X 5. i just wanted to get really fucked up. and then, i went outside, after the sun went down. and it looked like heaven opened up. a barely perceptable mutation of curtains of red, with rays of blue... changing to ripples of violet, then red again, setting alight the northern horizon. and then i realized that there was no artificial stimulant that could even come close to that kind of unimaginable, surreal reality. |
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