Friday, February 05, 2010

Glass of coke

Box of noodles in sauce, slice of cheese, glass of coke. I eat intermittently but I never get thinner.

Feel my shoulders. Skin and bone. The less I eat, the more misshapen I get.

And Mrs Zen says, are you okay? No, ofc I'm not okay. I'm dying and it's unpleasant.

Roll up the shirt, the needle barely hurts. The injections aren't working. Life is still shit. Perhaps I need more.

Give me a cuddy Naughtyman, but he won't, and when the others are getting into the car, he's hiding in his bedroom, under the covers. I don't know what it means.

I don't know what any of it means.

Transferring the database is harder than it seems it needs to be. I have no expertise.

When people ask you, what are your interests? I smile and say, I'm not interested in life at all. It's passed me by and what else am I going to do?

I read something about a Chinese child chained to a lamp post. People steal children. They do various things with them.

And it's hard to have faith in us when that is what we do but I only want to love my neighbour, so what can I do?

Zenita's teacher goes, tell us when you know how you're fixed. Because the kids need reassuring. I say, we don't have anything settled yet. By which I mean, that fat lazy bitch is settled but I'm stuck in limbo. And how can I possibly know what's better? My sister says, won't she consider living in the UK for a while? Because that is so clearly the right thing to do, ofc S thinks that. She's a stickler for doing the right thing, without being a huge PITA about it.

No, I say, she won't consider anything. She won't even talk. Sometimes I email her and she'll say, I have lots to say but I'm not saying it.

I know I shouldn't call her a fat lazy bitch. I know it's right to try to retain some fondness for her. I know what is right. You get sick of doing it for no reward though. I mean, yeah, you could judge me harshly but I tend to see things as wholes, and on the whole...


There is a soft voice on the other end of the line and I'm surprised. It is Ae, a Chilean woman I have been messaging. It is nice to hear a woman's voice that isn't Mrs Zen's. K used to ring me from time to time but she has not for a while. She has decided we should try to be cooler than that.

I am not good at cool. I am not good at anything. It's unfortunate: I had the ability to be good at just about anything I chose, but I could not, failed to, choose.

I don't know what to say to her. I don't have anything to say about anything. I don't even have an opinion on the chained Chinese child or Haiti or the Dalai Lama or anything at all.

I think you will hear more about Ae. We will meet once and she will decide never to see me again. Maybe twice. Certainly no more than that. It's what happens. I have society in small snatches, and I'm left bewildered by their choices because I feel like I was good to be with, but obv. not good enough to bother with again.


At 1:39 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said...

People skills! you don't have a fucking clue.

At 1:41 pm, Blogger Dr Zen said...

Actually, Gunt, I think you'd be horrified to learn how personable I am. I'm not great on the phone but face to face, even you'd like me. And I don't mean the sickly puppy love you display here.

At 2:08 am, Blogger Father Luke said...

Well, having had you coach me in Poker, I found your phone manner quite pleasing, and your demeanor very personable.

At one point you were quizzical as to whether you'd angered me, it was regarding the stance I took toward (toward/towards?) when people ask things of me... you'd given me an analogy...

So, while you may think, or modestly boast, that you're not great on the phone, my experience differs.

As to the rest... .

- -
Father Luke


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