After spending years in the abyss, one would be inclined to think oneself invulnerable to minor lapses in the fabric of physical 'reality'. Jackie Mason said "It's no longer a question of staying healthy. It's a question of finding a sickness you like. "
In the three days that I lay flat on my bed groaning and moaning of a hallucinatory flu, I experienced the plumbing depths of my private hell. In all its gut-wrenching, intestine-squeezing, life-sucking, energy-draining glory the flu did for me what I needed to start the up-coming new-year. A purgatory! I have been stripped clean and something yanked the plug off my drainage system and gave me a natural enema without me having to stick a pump up my arsehole. Strangely I have never felt so alive in a long long long time. I've spent the best part of the day puking what looks like water out and shitting what again seems like the same fluid. Hey I'm singing from both ends! Its always harder to convince your gag reflex to stop when there's nothing left to puke. So while I hover over the ever accepting pot stopping only to change ends, an epiiphany crawls up warily.
As I walk out to get some air, I'm feeling more aware in an unaware kind of way. I feel like a being not of flesh and blood. I can still remember the last time I felt this way. That was however in a different life. In this re-incarnation however this has been a first. Delirious? A product of my hallucinations would be far more dramatically profound considering my flair for fantasia. This was a simple punch to the gut that knoocked the bloody shit out of my sails. Life always does to me what my biggest and fiercest opponents haven't done till date. Knock me out!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment