Fish Sticks and Babbling

For two nights I went sleepless, and to maintain function I kept flinging pills into my mouth. What a scene...what a fucking wreck. A diet of coffee and Diet Coke, along with the occassional "Cup o' Noodles," sustained me. What I really needed, however, was sleep. And not to recharge the proverbial batteries for another day, but to get the hell away from myself for a few blissful hours (provided there are no nightmares). But it was not to be, and on that third day I collapsed at the top of the stairs near my bedroom. I'm told that I had a seizure that went on for several minutes, after which I lie unconscious. Finally, I awoke, babbling incoherently to my father. At least he thinks I was babbling. I know what I was saying; "I love you...I'm sorry," over and over again. I also mentioned my love of Donna, Clare and Kent, and even said "goodbye" to Amanda. Although I'm pretty sure she could care less. I said other things, too, but nobody anywhere knows what they were. After almost an hour, I crawled to my bed and then into it. Two days later, the only reminders of the incident are countless aches and pains, all of the sort one would expect from falling unconscious and face-first. If I were five steps farther along I would have fallen that way down the stairs. Gravity being what it is, that would have sucked.

Last night I had to go to a public hearing about the housing unit in which I live. People asked the stupidest questions, and I couldn't wait to ask my question so I could get the fuck out of there. It was near the end of the hearing when I got my answer, pulled on my coat, and fled into the night. I didn't even pause to take in the atmosphere of the public school cafeteria. This was an elementary school, not a high or even middle school. I do have fond memories of being that young, and even of school at that age. So I didn't mind squeezing into the cafeteria table/seat combination beneath the American flag and sucking in the aroma of fish sticks and chalk. People like to blame school for crushing their spirit, ala "Life in Hell," but I think it has more to do with our growing awareness as we get older that we're nothing special. And it's not school that tells us this, but the entire fucking universe and everything in it.

High School, on the other hand, is like a full-time job that you're not free to quit and that doesn't pay anything. Along the line you learn new things, like how many different ways a person can be called, "fat" and that a nice car alone can get you laid.

But I digress. I'm a lonely son of a bitch these days, but I haven't the fortitude to challenge isolation or kill myself. I read an awful lot, which is supposed to be good for you.