5 Days Later
It’s been 5 days, 5 days and no sleep. 120 hours without a wink. I have no idea why either. In fact the only time that I haven't been conscious in the past 5 days has been when I blackout. This has been happening more and more lately. Honestly I'm a little thankful for the 5 to 10 minutes of REM, if you can call it that. It’s kinda funny, when your brain loses touch, Your body becomes stiff like a long night spent on the bathroom floor, and your brain starts working overtime like the engine of an '87 civic that somebody's trying to drive on the freeway in first gear. Nothing like 10,000 RPM's screaming to the heavens whilst little bits of transmission start to drop out the bottom of the little ricer. I said before that I wanted to remember my last days as the best of my life, but without any sleep I feel like a junkie needing a fix. I can't really remember what went on the past few days but I'm pretty sure that I got drunk at least once.
The Next Day
Quit my job today. Figured some shit out and I've got enough in my savings that if I sell my car I'll have enough money to live well for a little over a year. I don't plan on living that long so I think I might just say to divide it amongst my friends when I'm gone. Oh yeah, my mom figured out what happened. That was a fun conversation; my dad had the same thing happen to him as well as my granddad. Dad got hooked up to tubes for a couple months before he kicked it, and gamps never knew what hit him. I think that it will take a while for her to come to grips with it but she's strong. That’s why I'm not going to another doctor, I don't want to walk in and get hooked into a machine, I'd rather spend that time with her.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Nights Like These (continuation)
New addition
I think that the hardest thing about this whole mess is that I am going to die young and alone. Every single hope and dream, every goal that I have ever had, it all just seems to pale in comparison to my current situation. The fact that I will never get married, have kids, or even finish school. It all just a mater of coming to grips with it all, my dreams of traveling the world or opening my own business, its all dead and gone, just like I will be.
A Few Days Later
I still haven't told anyone, I'm not planning to either. I don't want my friends to think of differently about me because they know how little time that I have left. All that I really want is to as I have been, because every precious moment that I have left is special, and I need to live it to the fullest.
Later On The Same Day
Wrapped my car around a tree today. I think that it was an oak. Funny thing about it is that the medic told me that I am lucky to be alive. I honestly couldn't hold back a laugh, if he only knew just what was wrong with me.
I think that the hardest thing about this whole mess is that I am going to die young and alone. Every single hope and dream, every goal that I have ever had, it all just seems to pale in comparison to my current situation. The fact that I will never get married, have kids, or even finish school. It all just a mater of coming to grips with it all, my dreams of traveling the world or opening my own business, its all dead and gone, just like I will be.
A Few Days Later
I still haven't told anyone, I'm not planning to either. I don't want my friends to think of differently about me because they know how little time that I have left. All that I really want is to as I have been, because every precious moment that I have left is special, and I need to live it to the fullest.
Later On The Same Day
Wrapped my car around a tree today. I think that it was an oak. Funny thing about it is that the medic told me that I am lucky to be alive. I honestly couldn't hold back a laugh, if he only knew just what was wrong with me.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Nights Like These
Another rough draft
Its nights like these that make me feel poetic, er at least wishing I was. My sorry excuses for rhythm and free verse combinations pale in comparison to what my heart feels. You see I am an ordinary man. Not much of a looker, I don't stand out in a crowd, nor do I try to. So why do I write? Because inside this ordinary man is a unique brain that cannot be tamed, something beautifully chaotic is locked inside my head, and it screams to get out.
This is gonna be a long night I think as I walk up Drew's driveway, a case of beer in one hand, and pieces of what used to be my cell phone in the other. Walking into the place I set the beer down to the mild cheers of my close friends and try to avoid answering questions about my phone. I crack open a cold PBR, light up a cigarette and take a seat on the couch. Our conversations waft around like the smoke from the end of our cigarettes, floating through the air and into the night as we talk on and on.
I step outside to the men’s room and take in the relatively warm February night. Basking in it, I looked up to see the lights of the city reflecting off the clouds, the night air cooling my warm skin, I take it all in with a deep exhale. This night makes the pain almost worth it.
Everyday is becoming more and more of a struggle. I had a mild stroke while at work a few weeks ago, 22 years old and I got a freaking stroke. I don't want anybody's charity, and I am through with hospitals, which is the main reason why I haven't told anybody. All I want to do is hang out with my friends while I wait out what time I have left in my life. The doctors couldn't tell me how long I've got, but they said I probably won't make it through the year.
That was a shocker, since the stroke my mind shuts off for a few seconds every once and a while, that’s why I dropped my phone, I remember getting into my car trying to juggle the beer, my phone, and my keys, then next thing I know I'm in the car watching my phone clatter down my windshield and onto the parking lot as I back up. They told me that alcohol and tobacco wouldn't help things but I figure that if I'm going to die I might as well go out on my own terms.
"Hey man, you alright?" Drew asks.
Ah shit. It happened again; I play it off like I was just in deep thought and tell him not to worry about it.
Its nights like these that make me feel poetic, er at least wishing I was. My sorry excuses for rhythm and free verse combinations pale in comparison to what my heart feels. You see I am an ordinary man. Not much of a looker, I don't stand out in a crowd, nor do I try to. So why do I write? Because inside this ordinary man is a unique brain that cannot be tamed, something beautifully chaotic is locked inside my head, and it screams to get out.
This is gonna be a long night I think as I walk up Drew's driveway, a case of beer in one hand, and pieces of what used to be my cell phone in the other. Walking into the place I set the beer down to the mild cheers of my close friends and try to avoid answering questions about my phone. I crack open a cold PBR, light up a cigarette and take a seat on the couch. Our conversations waft around like the smoke from the end of our cigarettes, floating through the air and into the night as we talk on and on.
I step outside to the men’s room and take in the relatively warm February night. Basking in it, I looked up to see the lights of the city reflecting off the clouds, the night air cooling my warm skin, I take it all in with a deep exhale. This night makes the pain almost worth it.
Everyday is becoming more and more of a struggle. I had a mild stroke while at work a few weeks ago, 22 years old and I got a freaking stroke. I don't want anybody's charity, and I am through with hospitals, which is the main reason why I haven't told anybody. All I want to do is hang out with my friends while I wait out what time I have left in my life. The doctors couldn't tell me how long I've got, but they said I probably won't make it through the year.
That was a shocker, since the stroke my mind shuts off for a few seconds every once and a while, that’s why I dropped my phone, I remember getting into my car trying to juggle the beer, my phone, and my keys, then next thing I know I'm in the car watching my phone clatter down my windshield and onto the parking lot as I back up. They told me that alcohol and tobacco wouldn't help things but I figure that if I'm going to die I might as well go out on my own terms.
"Hey man, you alright?" Drew asks.
Ah shit. It happened again; I play it off like I was just in deep thought and tell him not to worry about it.
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