I’m sitting here alone with one lamp lit across the room. It is 3:24 am. I didn’t sleep at all last night and here I sit still tapping on my laptop’s keys. I touch them feeling the tactile buttons giving way to the slightest touch of my fingers.
If only I could manipulate my life like I control my trembling fingers on this keyboard. I could backspace my way out of some pretty horrible ordeals I’ve been going through.
Have you noticed my absence here in cyberspace? If you haven’t, then perhaps I am actually sitting here alone throwing up words only to flush them away once I hit post. Actually no, my words will live on despite what my life slaps me in the face with.
I can feel the redness and swelling of my face from so many tortuous unprovoked abuse of my body. I can feel the pain in my legs, my buttocks, my lower back, my hands and arms, my neck and head. I can also feel the pain deep within my body.
My trembling fingers find it almost too difficult to dance across the buttons of this keyboard. I see two of everything I type as I see two of everything else in life. If only I could enjoy what I see doubling the affect of good things.
There is so much to tell you but I don’t know where to begin. I don’t even know that I feel like it right now. It’s late and I really should try and sleep. I will place between my trembling lips a pipe of medicinal marijuana, that will help me forget about things for a few hours while I slumber.
I’m drooping now like the flowers in the pot in my kitchen that I meant to dispose of. Instead the petals lie on the kitchen floor for my dogs to sniff at wondering if this is a treat for them to eat.
For now, I will say good night, or good morning? It is now 4:00 am.
If all goes well, I will return and tell you about the “so much to tell you”. There is a horrific process that I must endure first, if I am to live. I try not to think about it but the butterflies dancing around in my stomach won’t allow it. Butterflies shouldn’t be inside one’s stomach.