notanotherphony.

Friday night. Toronto. The Annex. Dark. Cold? Not sure. Living on Walmer with Katie. Katie was an acquaintance. She didn’t like me. I lived too much. She didn’t live. She was safe. Serious. Attractive but dull. I would still have fucked her. Who wouldn’t I fuck? Liked her panties. Always do. Girls in panties are better than girls naked. Getting hard.
Friday night. Out with the boys. Foti, Oscar, Joe, Dom. All on the hunt. Drunk and alive. Preying on the weak. Looking for the weak. Searching for the weak. Vulnerable. Drunk and horny. We arrive. ATLAS. Bar full of women. Dark. Older. Horny. Them. And us. Phoniness everywhere. Blurry. More shots. Getting drunker. Laughing. Yelling. “YEEOOOW!” I WILL STAND OUT. I WILL GET ATTENTION. I WILL GET LAID. Pretending I’m a rock star but actually a lawn cutter. Not living up to my potential. Scared. Afraid. NOT DETERMINED. No Dad. Hardly a Mom. Hardly a brother. No family equals no potential. LIFE SUCKS. Except for the weekend. Make believe. WE ARE ALL EQUALS. HORNY. DRUNK. SWEATING. I WILL GET LAID. I WILL GET LAID. I WILL GET LAID. Talking to girls. Flirting with girls. Joking with girls. It was all about girls. Panties. I will see panties. Blurry. 2am fast approaching. Last call. Was I talking to my buddies anymore? Not sure. Drunk. Blackout. Always blackouts. Alcoholic? Probably. WHO GIVES A FUCK? I WILL GET LAID. I WILL GET LAID. I WILL GET LAID. LAST CALL. Two more shots. Two more beers. NEED TO GET DRUNK. Already in a blackout. Alcoholic? For sure. Girls everywhere. Girls wanting to fuck me. Me wanting more drinks. Booze more important than girls right now. Tomorrow morning will be different. I will wake up HORNY!!! Always do. Maybe I will fuck Katie?
The lights come on. Blurry. Drunk. Blackout. Where’s Jane when you need her? Probably having some guy’s small dick up her ass. She probably misses me. I wonder how old she is now. What does she look like? I am getting old.
Miraculously Foti, myself and the gang make it back to my apartment. Alive. We walk upstairs. Yelling. Falling. Slurring. Katie home. Terrified. Dying a slow death. Most people do. Anyways, I’m in a blackout. Always am. Functioning. In a blackout. Girls? Katie? Horny? I pass out. Always. My buddies leave. Katie sleeping. The night is over. Ending in sadness. Loneliness. Desperation. Patheticness. Family? Where are you? I NEED YOU. I NEED YOU. I NEED YOU!!!
“Who are you?” this big black woman says to me.
“Who are you?” this big black woman says to me.
“Who are you?” this big black woman says to me.
I look up and see this huge black woman holding a vacuum cleaner. Unattractive but I would still fuck her. Horny. I open my eyes. Blurry. I look around. “Where am I?” I thought. Don’t talk. Don’t recognize house. On couch. Tired. Drunk. Hungover. Horny. Too tired to fuck. “You must be friends with Dave?” black lady asks me. “No,” I respond. “You must be friends with Lisa then?” she continues. Not scared. “No,” I continue. “Oh.” black lady walks away.
I look around. Fuzzy. Plop my head back onto the couch. Relax. Pounding head. Pasty. Blurry. Sweaty. Tired. Horny. BOOM. Asleep. Dreaming.
“Wake up sir. Wake up sir,” someone says to me. I look up. Head pounding. Blurry. I see two cops. Two white people. One big black lady. A house I don’t recognize. WHERE AM I? WHERE AM I? WHERE AM I? “Sir…what is your name sir?” the one cop asks me. “My name is Christian Mckenna,” I respond. Where the fuck am I? “What are you doing here Christian?” the officer continues. I don’t respond. Not sure what to say. Not sure where I am. “Sir, what are you doing here?” cop continues. “I don’t know where I am. Where am I?” I legitimately ask. “Don’t be smart sir,” the cop continues. “Do you know this man?” the cop asks the two white people standing beside the black woman. “No we don’t,” the couple answers in unison. “Are you sure?” “Yes we are positive,” they answer. The cops now seem a little more perturbed. Angry. They slap handcuffs on me and start walking me outside. I keep yelling, “I know that girl. I know that girl. I met her last night at Atlas.” She really did look familiar. “Yeah sure,” the cops respond. “How did you get in here?” the cops continue to push. “I don’t remember. I really don’t.” “The back door looks like it has been jimmied. You must have broken into the house through the back door.” I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to think. My last recollection being at Atlas for last call and even that was blurry. Fuzzy. Scared? Not really. Not sure why not. “Do you have any identification sir?” the cop asks. “No I don’t,” I respond. I check my pants for my wallet but nothing there. “Where do you live?” they ask. “On Walmer,” I respond, not knowing we were on Walmer. “Where on Walmer?” they continue. “At the top of the street,” I respond yet again. “Is there anyone there who could verify who you are?” “Maybe.” “You better hope so or we are taking you down to the station and charging you with break and enter.” “BUT I KNOW THAT GIRL. I KNOW THAT GIRL. I MET HER LAST NIGHT AT ATLAS. I SWEAR TO GOD. I SWEAR I DID. SHE’S LYING.” I protest. Cops not listening. They never do. Shove me into the backseat of their cop car. Tight squeeze. Legs sore. Head pounding. Sunday morning? NO…Saturday morning. Kids out on the street playing. Staring. Mothers. Staring. Everyone staring. Cops driving. Not far. Twenty seconds up the street and the cop car stops. “Get out Mr. Mckenna. Is this your house?” “Yes.” I respond. We walk up to my place…well Katie’s place…and knock. No answer. Then ring the bell. Kind of hoping Katie won’t answer. Need her to answer but also don’t want her to answer. TORN. ALWAYS TORN. “Looks like nobody’s home Mr. Mckenna. We’ll have to take you down to the station.” We start to walk back to the cop car when suddenly I remember something. Brain still working…somewhat. “Can we try my neighbour’s house? She can verify who I am. Please?” I beg the officer. “Sure,” they reply. We now walk up to my neighbour’s house. I fucked her earlier in the week and never called her but desperate times call for desperate measures. We ring the bell. Wait. Ring again. Wait. Ring again…door begins to open. Me. Two cops. Me in handcuffs. Door opens. And she looks out. Forgot her name. always do. She looks at me. Looks at cops. Looks at handcuffs…”Yes?” she asks in fear. “Can you please verify who this man is?” the one cop asks her. She looks at me puzzled. “Please…tell them the truth…who I am.” I tell her hoping like hell she remembers my name. “What’s wrong?” she asks. “Nothing serious,” the cops assure her. “Yes…his name is Christian and he lives next door.” A saviour. TRUTH. ALWAYS TELL THE TRUTH. “Thank you ma’am and sorry to wake you at this time. Have a good day,” the one cop says to the girl I fucked. She closes the door. Looks out the window. Cops unlock the handcuffs. “You are lucky Christian. Very lucky. You shouldn’t drink so much. Causes problems.” “I know. I know. Thank you sooo much. Have a good day and I am very sorry.”
The cop car drives away. I walk up to my apartment door. Try to open the door. Locked. No key. No Katie. No luck. No money. No wallet. No love. No pride. No memory. No Dad. No Mom. No fuck. Horny but nothing to do. I sit down and stare ahead. I think and ponder. I know that it is the same thing but who gives a fuck.
I think about walking over to my neighbour’s apartment and perhaps fucking her but I am too tired. Too embarrassed. Too guilty. I should have called her after I fucked her. Maybe women aren’t so bad after all.

Nothing seems to happen anymore. Bored. Boring. No passion. Life just goes by. Somedays quicker. Somedays slower. It’s like I’m waiting for something miraculous to happen. Everyone around me is living. Living for something…work, spouses, children…not me. I live for nothing. No more hockey. No more soccer. No more tennis. No more family. No more…what the hell happened to life? All I do is fuck and I’m even bored with that. What happens to people when they become bored with everything that life has to offer? Periodic periods of excitement. Then boredom. Patterns. Wake up. Two waffles. Shower. Jerk off. Out the door. Starbuck’s latte. Read bukowski for an hour. Work. Sell shoes. Talk to girls. Flirt with girls. Talk about bullshit stories. They’re true. But still bullshit. Eat lunch. Read the newspaper. Look at more girls. Build up is happening. Talk to more girls. Flirt with more girls. Check my messages. “you have one new message”. Excitement. Who is it? Wait…wait…wait…a hang up. Frustrated. Pop a pill. Calms me down. Calm. Look at girls. Take a shit. Flush the toilet. Wipe my hands. Sometimes don’t wipe. Look at myself in the mirror. Nothing changes. Back out “on the floor”. Irritated by guys. Turned on by girls. Getting horny. Six o’clock. Work is over. Check messages…again. One new message. Excited. Panicky. My mom. “you owe me $500 on the american express card. I’m going to cancel the card.”…AGAIN. walk home. Order pizza. Take clothes off. Pick up pizza. Get turned on by young waitress. Over tip. Walk upstairs. Eat pizza. Watch hockey. Flush remaining slices down the toilet. Use plunger to unplug toilet. Turn off tv. Turn off lights. Fill up water bottle. Go to my room. The dust filled room. Lie on my mattress that is on the floor. The dust filled mattress that is on the floor. Pull out a porno magazine. Not playboy. Not penthouse. Not swank. BARELY 18. watch and jerk. Turn music on. Turn music off. Sweat and jerk. Turn lights off. Close porno mag. Think of sexy girls I saw all day. Think hard…jerk…sweat…think some more…moan…jerk. REST. No come. No load. Just sweat. Start again. Focus. Focus. Focus. FOCUS!!! SWEATING…JERKING…HARDER…HARDER…HARDER…IT’S HERE AND BOOM!!!
It’s over. Magazine’s away. Load in hand. Palm of my left hand. Transported to tissue paper. Transported to garbage bin. Sweating. Drink water. Pop a pill to make me sleep. Turn radio on. Talk show on the Leafs. Listen to the idiots talk. Go to sleep. Wake up. Take a leak. Stuffed up. Go back to sleep. At least attempt to go back to sleep. Toss and turn. Finally asleep. Time to get up. A brand new day. The exact same as the last.

So horny. Don’t want to take off my glasses to write but can’t see with them on. Red headed girl behind counter is so hot. Perky tits. Zits. Would love to fuck the red headed girl. Trying to focus but can’t. Always horny. Jerked off twice today but still not enough. Fantasy. Horny. Hot. Restless. Edgy. Too many girls. Too much GUILT. NICE FUCKING TITS. Guys are such fucking geeks these days. No men. No real men. Pansies. Feel sorry for girls. Slim pickings out there. Boys. Boys. Boys. Perky tits. What to write? What to write? What to write?
The night started like every other night. Left my apartment. Left my girls and took a cab down to The Keg for dinner and wine. Lots of wine. Red. Sit at the bar and chat with the bartender. Look around. Order my bottle. Half price wine. Can’t lose. Start drinking. Talking. Flirting. Reading. Looking around constantly. Girls everywhere. Always. Torture. Always. Drink. Order my steak. Drink. Talk. Crazy? Yes. Fun? Yes. Continue to drink. Look over to my right. See girl with nice panties bending down. Torture. Can see panties but blurry. Very blurry. If I put my glasses back on it would be too obvious. Who gives a fuck? Glasses back on. Horny. Story forgotten for now. Perky tits. Nice panties. Some things are more important than others. ART??? Who gives a fuck right now. LIFE MORE IMPORTANT. Perky tits and panties now back behind counter. Glasses off again. Mine. Not hers. She doesn’t wear glasses…yet.
Continue to drink. One glass. Two glasses. Three glasses. And four. Steak arrives. Tonight is going to be a good good night. No rules. No regulations. Inhale my steak. Inhale my wine. Order another bottle. Living in the moment. Talk to Jonah. Talk to Scott. Talk to Jesse. Look at young girls. Talk to Ang. I AM HERE. I AM ALIVE. Starting to sweat. Nothing new. Pick up my phone. Text Luis. Looking for excitement. Girls. Girls. Girls. Luis is always surrounded by girls. Time is flying by. Always does when you are having fun. Death? NO. NOT TONIGHT. Get in touch with Luis.
“Hey Mckenna. We’re going out to a few bars on Ossington with my buddy. You in?”
“For sure. Let me finish up here and I’ll take a cab over to meet you.”
I finish up my wine. Pay my bill. Fifty four bucks. Great deal. DRUNK. Two bottles of wine. Steak. Girls. Conversation. ON FIRE. HOT. SWEATY. HORNY. Say bye to all my friends (?) at The Keg and stumble out the door. Already in a semi blackout. Hop into a cab. Paki driver of course. I won’t get stabbed I hope.
“Where you go?” Paki says in angry voice.
“Queen and Dufferin,” I respond in drunken voice.
Cabbie takes off. Slowest way of course. Paki music on. Talking on cellphone. Smelly. Stinky. Dirty. Eventually we arrive at Luis’ apartment. Pay Paki. Get out. Barely. Stumble into Luis’ apartment. Luis and his alcoholic friend standing. Drinking. Talking. Yelling. I laugh and go to the fridge for more booze. Hat still on. Drink. Talk. Laugh. Drink more. And more. And more. And more. And more. And more. And more. And more. And…WAKE UP. Phone ringing. Triggy yelling, “Where are you? Where are you?”
“Luis’ place,” I respond.
“When will you be home?”
“What time is it?”
“Six o’clock”
“OHHHH FUCK. I will leave now,” I answer in a panic.
Sweating. Head pounding. Drunk. Still drunk. Get up. Lying on floor. No blankets. No puke. Get up and stumble out the door. Glasses on. THANK GOD. Pull out my keys and hop in my car. Start the car. Look in the mirror. Can’t see and begin to drive home. DRUNK. Talk on the phone to someone but forget who. Two hands on the wheel. Always two hands on the wheel when drunk. Drive home. Stop at Tim Horton’s first. Two large coffee’s and timbits for Rylee. I love Rylee so much. Get coffee’s and timbits and make my way home. Park car. Stumble upstairs into apartment. NO HAT.
“Daddy’s home,” I say drunkenly.
Rylee comes running out of bedroom. Our bedroom. Gives me a running hug. I LOVE RYLEE’S RUNNING HUGS!!! We drink our coffee’s. Eat some toast. Tv on. Kiddie shows. For Rylee. Not me. Talk. Play. Drink more coffee. Pop four Advil’s. Try to get sober. Smile. Sweat. Shower. Change clothes. Not underwear. Bring Rylee to Daycare. DRUNK. Triggy now driving. I stay in car as Triggy brings Rylee into school. Kiss Rylee good-bye. Give her a huge hug and lay back on seat. Wait for Triggy to come out. Triggy comes out and we go for breakfast. Good place. New. Good. Expensive but good. We sit down. Order more coffee. Pasty. Order more coffee along with sausage and eggs and a side of potatoes. Not sure what Triggy orders. Drink coffee. Get refill. Drink coffee. Another refill. Now up to four large coffees. Who cares? Only live once. Triggy talks. I listen. Still drunk. Head still pounding. Still pasty. Still sad. Always sad. Always mad. Always happy. Always. Always. Always.
Food arrives. We eat. No potatoes.
“I think you forgot my potatoes,” I say to the waitress.
“Oh right. So sorry. I’ll be right back,” she responds.
The waitress rushes back to the kitchen. We eat what we have. Drink more coffee. Eat and drink. Always once again. Food is delicious even though I can’t really taste it. The waitress brings over the potatoes. Sets them in front of me. Steaming. Smelly. Good smelly. Not Paki smelly. I blow on them and then dig in. I put a forkfull in my mouth and, “OWWWWWWWWWWWW…HOT…HOT…AHHHHHHHHHH…AHHHHHHHHHH.”
I blow and blow while potatoes are still in my mouth. HOT. HOT. HOT. I blow and blow and blow and then BOOM!!! I collapse to the floor. under the table. Panic. Triggy petrified. Waitress runs over. CHAOS. Screaming. Yelling. Panicking. Waitress calls 911. DAD???
The ambulance arrives. Paramedics arrive. Approach table. Triggy still screaming. Thinking I’m dead. Not yet. Paramedics grab me. Lift me up.
“Are you okay sir? Do you know where you are?” they ask.
They keep asking questions but I barely respond. Not really knowing what had just happened. Not really knowing where I am.
“Are you okay?” they continue.
“Yeah…I…just…I’m a little dizzy…but okay…I think.” I respond.
“We’ll take him down to Sunnybrook Hospital for observation.”
The paramedics walk me to the ambulance. Triggy follows. Bill at restaurant paid…I think. We get in the ambulance. Head really pounding now. Talking a lot more now. STILL DRUNK??? We arrive at hospital. Sit in the emergency waiting room for a bit and then get carried into a room on a stretcher. Scared. Scared. Drunk. Dad. Thoughts. Sweats. Fear once again. FUCK FEAR.
The nurse comes in and hooks me up to an I.V. She asks a few questions and leaves. Small white room. Me and Triggy. Rylee at Daycare. Will I see her again? We sit. Talk. Sweat. Head still pounding. Pasty. Triggy gets me water. What happened? Not knowing what happened. Unsure. Always unsure.
Doctor arrives. HOT. Young. HOT. She asks me a few questions. My history. Family history etc and then gives me some tests. I told her I had one bottle of wine (I lied) last night and maybe that’s what caused my collapse. She didn’t think so and ordered me to have some x-rays. Starting to feel a little better. The I.V. working. Still sweating. Still shaking. Hungry. Pasty. Edgy. HORNY. ALWAYS HORNY.
We wait. And wait. And wait. Hospitals always make you wait. Even when you are dying. Complacency at it’s ugliest. Finally a big fat black nurse comes in and wheels me down to the x-ray room. We arrive and wait again. Wasting life away. Triggy not with me anymore. She remained in my room. Get wheeled into x-ray room eventually and sit still. Flash. Sound. Flash. Sound. Flash. Sound. Dark. Then lights go on.
“That’s it. I’ll now wheel you back.”
“Thanks.”
The big fat black nurse now wheels me back to my room. Head still throbbing. We arrive. Nurse leaves. Triggy looks at me with a look of concern. LOVE. UNCONDITIONAL LOVE.
“How do you feel now?” she asks.
“Okay. Still foggy.” I reply.
“I called your Mom and brother to let them know.”
“Okay. Good. Thanks.”
“I love you Christian.”
“I love you too Triggy.”
We sit and talk and giggle and talk some more. My covers covering me. HOT. COLD. HORNY. SWEATY. CLAMMY. PASTY. BLURRY. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT.
Dom arrives and looks scared.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“Yeah, I feel better.”
We all talk and laugh and joke around.
“Are you sure it’s not just a hangover?” my brother continues with a big grin on his face.
“I don’t know…maybe.” I respond with a hint of embarrassment.
“Yeah, it’s a hangover. World’s worst hangover. Milking the taxpayer’s dollars for a stupid hangover,” he continues.
We all begin to laugh and joke some more. I.V. almost done. Still feeling shitty but not a bad hangover remedy!!! Then the doctor arrives. Looking a little frightened. A little concerned.
“Mr. Mckenna. We found a little something on your brain. It could be nothing but it could also be a small tumour. Don’t panic but we’ll need to bring you in for an MRI to get a better look. Don’t worry it’s probably nothing.”
Silence. Laughter quickly erased. Fear sets in. For real. Real fear. NOT FUCKING FEAR FACTOR. FUCKING SHIT SHOWS. I look over at Triggy. FEAR. I look at Dom. FEAR. Could this be it? I finally have cancer.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
Big black nurse quickly arrives again and wheels me down to the MRI room. Triggy and Dom remain. Terrified. Triggy so scared. So scared. Fear in her eyes. Dom scared too. Me too. I arrive at MRI room and wait…again. always fucking waiting. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone out last night.
WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. Doctor finally arrives. Speaks nicely to me. Pleasantly. Forget if he/she was a male or female. She gives me the whole breakdown on the procedure. I nod my head as if to say, “YES. I understand.” Didn’t really understand but I just wanted to get the whole ordeal over. Wait a little longer. Hear various noises. Brightness everywhere. Eyes sore. Head still throbbing. I lay down on some table. Doctor straps me in. Uncomfortable table of course. My head unable to move. Stare straight up. My head jammed into some sort of brace. The doctor warns me that if I get claustrophobic that I just have to press the red button. I look at it. Countdown is on. I hear the doctor’s now muzzled voice on the speaker.
“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. And one.”
My body now moving into this tube. Strapped in. Claustrophobic. Hungover. Scared. Slowly moving. Weird noise. Buzzing noise. Within seconds I am fully in the tiny tube.
“Okay Mr. Mckenna. We will begin. You will hear many loud noises and this will go on for thirty minutes. You have nothing to worry about. I am right here in this room. You might feel claustrophobic but just try and stay still as we need to get a good reading and the only way is if you do not move too much. If you do get scared you just need to press the red button. Okay?”
“Okay.” I respond in pure panic mode.
“Here we go. We will begin now.” the doctor continues.
NOISE. NOISE. NOISE. Scary thoughts racing through my pounding head.
“Is this doctor some sort of crazed lunatic?” I thought.
Felt I was suffocating. Hot. Sweaty once again. PANIC. PANIC. PANIC. Look up. Open eyes. Close eyes. Open eyes once again. Trying anything to feel more comfortable. Less scared. Walls caving in.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” I scream and then press the red button.
The doctor shuts off the noise. The tube opens up. I feel better again. Sweat pouring down my red face.
“Is everything okay Mr. Mckenna?” the doc asks.
“Yes. It’s just a little scary. I’ll try again. Just give me a few seconds.”
“Okay…but just remember we can’t get a good reading if you move around too much.”
“Okay…okay. I am ready.”
The tube starts humming again. I start moving again. Strapped in again and now moving slowly back into the tiny space shuttle looking thing. Eyes open? Eyes closed? NOISE once again. Head pounding once again. Me sweating once again. Sit still. Sit still. For once in my life I try to sit still. Not working. Panicking. Not breathing. Choking. Crazy doctor suffocating me again. Oh oh. Oh oh. Panting. Dizzy. Edgy. LOUD. LOUD. LOUD. Am I in a horror movie?
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” I scream and then hit the red button again.
The doctor shuts off the noise. The tube moves again and allows me to breathe again. I AM STILL ALIVE!!!
“Mr. Mckenna would you rather do this on another day? We can’t keep starting and stopping the machine. You must sit still or we can re-schedule. What do you think?” the doctor asks with a real coldness.
“I am sorry. It’s just a little scary. That’s all.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Can we try once more?”
“Sure but remember it is a lot easier if you close your eyes.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t forget to close your eyes.”
“I won’t.”
The machine starts up again. My panting begins again. Close my eyes. Hear loud noises. Tube coming in on me. I feel like I am going to suffocate again. Keep my eyes closed. Think of big tits. Small tits. Fucking. Sucking. Palm trees. Beaches. Panties. Anything to keep my mind off of what is happening. DO NOT BE IN THE MOMENT!!!! Mind wandering as usual. Start counting. Get up to fifteen minutes. Fall asleep for a bit. Wake up for a bit. Back to counting. Can I do this??? Starting to panic once again. Start to sweat once again. Fidget. Think. Count. HOT. I think the doctor is ready to come in and stab me to death. WHY??? The clock continues. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. And one last loud noise. The machine shuts off. The lights are bright. The tube begins to move away. The doctor arrives.
“Good job.”
“Thanks.”
She unbuckles me and my head and now wheels me back to my room once again and now we WAIT. WAIT. AND WAIT. Life is so shitty sometimes that you have to wait to die. VERY SAD. At least I have loved ones with me.
We all chat again but this time with a little more sombreness. Tired. Scared. Headache almost gone. Hangover almost gone. Hope Rylee is okay. WAIT…………………………………………………………………………
The doctor arrives with a picture in her hand. She looks serious. Am I going to live or am I going to die? Doctors are hard to read. She closes the door behind her and comes closer. I look at the doctor but not before I give Triggy one last look. She smiles. I smile back.
The doctor speaks. “So you don’t have a tumour Mr. Mckenna.”
I almost instantly cry. Tears in Nicole’s eyes. Dom looks relieved as well.
“What we found is that you have a little gap in your brain and on the x-ray it appeared to look like a tumour. “
“Is that bad?” I respond.
“No. Everyone has little gaps in their brain. It is totally normal. The nurse will come and help you with your belongings and you can leave.”
“Thanks Doctor. So what do you think happened?”
“Hard to tell but it might just have been dehydration. Too much coffee.”
“Oh…yeah. Thanks.” I say back knowing the whole time it was the booze mixed with the coffee mixed with the lack of sleep and finally mixed with the heavy breathing after consuming the potatoes. LIFE.
She leaves. Dom laughs. Nicole gives me big hug. Dom leaves. Everything appears to be okay. For now. Triggy’s friend from work bringing us both pasta from a take out place. Shauna at home with our beautiful daughter Rylee. It is now ten pm. We began our breakfast at ten am. Twelve hours. LOVE.
I wish my Dad never died.

I just dreamt that I had two big breasts and was in the backstreet boys singing back up. Nice round breasts and BIG. I then saw cera walk by me and I chased her but couldn’t catch her. Instead, I ran into a woman all covered up with a long black coat and dark shades standing over an aluminum garbage can. Turns around. It was Julie. Looking good-fresh. BOOM BOOM BOOM. Awake. SHIT. Skinny girl that lives above me wakes me up with her pounding as she walks. Does it on purpose. Unless she is always angry. I would fall through the fucking roof if it was based on anger. MARCHING-AFRAID-MUSHROOMS-TORN-NOT KNOWING WHAT TO DO OR WHO TO DO. Eeriness turned into a soothing calm. OH OH-craziness again-SUSPENSE-DARK ALLEYS-RAIN-I’m in a funeral-a casket-paying last respects. If ANY. CALMNESS AGAIN. WHAT’S NEXT? The monster is asleep. Here she comes. POUNDING-CHAOS-LIFE GOING SIDEWAYS-WAKE UP-YOU’RE SAFE-FUCK OFF-I’M GETTING RIPPED APART. By whom?
Just got off the phone with some collection agent from Guyana. She sounded older. Haven’t seen her in my life. After conversation-JERKED OFF. TO WHO OR WHAT? OUT OF CONTROL. My day can now begin. Should I tell her when I see her that I jerked off and blew my load all over my hand envisioning her? Do women find that to be a compliment? They should. Ultimate compliment. All barriers down. Nobody to show off to and I’m thinking of you while I stroke…you’re welcome.
My fucking tape deck is bugging me again. Crackling. Unless you’re eating sugar pops you don’t want shit to be crackling. It crackles only when beautiful soothing music is on. WHY? WHO IN THIS WORLD OR ANY OTHER DOES NOT WANT ME TO BE CALM? ME?
FUCK.

Wake up with a pounding head once again. Stomach rumbling. Breath reeking. Eyes blurry. Sweating. Pasty. Why do I put myself through so much torture? Beautiful girl beside me. Sleeping. Snoring. Talking. What is she thinking? Dreaming? Water tastes like tar. I need a jerk. A release of fluids. But I need more fluids. Replenish. Jerk then drink. Drink then jerk. Horny. The shittier I feel the hornier I am. Thrusting. Throbbing. Satisfying. Pleasing. Smelling but pleasing. What women put up with. Why? All for a good fuck. Is that what it comes down to? Are drunks better fucks than bankers? I release my juice. Not in her. Not in the condom. Condoms don’t work. No feel. Too tight. She comes. And comes. Explosion. Bed is wet. She’s wet the bed. Soaked with cum. Better than pee. G spot has been attacked. Over and over. Explosions everywhere. Sweating and sweating. Energy waning. And waning. Dick is bleeding and bleeding. Head is pounding. And pounding. Thirsty for love. Thirsty for water. Condom ripped off. Dick in my hand. Hand is red from blood. Friction. Tearing. Thoughts racing. Concentration lacking. Couch is enticing. People watching. Sunlight shining. Roommate sleeping. Girlfriend working. Stomach rumbling. Rumbling. Thrusting. Thrusting. AND BOOM. Release. All fluids in my body being released at once. Onto the flood on the bed. Beside G SPOT LAKE. Sheets like a waterfall. Sweat. Cum. Blood. Drool. Time to shower and start the process again. “Want to go out for one beer?” One beer…yeah right. Drunk.