I woke up at 5:30 am today of my own accord. I still maintain that I am less likely to do this than I am to move to Texas tomorrow, buy a gun, take a vow of chastity, and join a right-wing Christian cult.
It must have been last night that did it.
I had a delayed psychotic reaction to leaving Montreal for my parents' house in Washington, D.C.. I started crying, and then I realized that I was being absurd, so I started laughing; but I couldn't stop either one.
I could have used a cigarette.
Do you remember what it's like to envy slim brown high school girls? To mumble over dinner? To glare at everyone, especially mothers and children? To break your own heart? To hold private sing-alongs with Johnny Rotten that the whole neighborhood could hear? To hate and hate and hate until your insides felt like wet crumpled tissue paper?
I was 14 again for approximately 15 minutes.
Curiously,
a part of me watched calmly from the background, sitting Indian fashion and
rubbing her
velvet head. She said,
"Whoa there chief, no wonder they've diagnosed you with all these disorders. Come on over here; we need to hang out for a while just you and me. We can sit and watch the stars."
So I went with her and she gave me a beer. We didn't talk or anything, but eventually I passed out in her arms.