Thursday, February 12, 2015

Rains, spores

Midway through today I knew something was wrong, the details of which are descriptively prohibitive. By 6pm, I was fully clothed and shaking underneath my comforter with the heat turned up to 74 degrees.

I pulled the emergency rip-cord, and have been shivering uncontrollably since.

Though now, most of it seems to have passed. I lie here after taking two aspirin, a swig of NyQuil. The most trusted name in medicine. Let the body rest, that's what I am fond of doing and saying. It is catnap karma, prying back from the swirling universe little slivers of lost stints, shipwrecked pieces drifting from shore.  Silence bereft a bottle

Aging is a form of salvage. Just ask cats.

I almost invite the hallucinations that I will endure. I can feel them arriving, as laughter among the lights.