Unintended Tragedies Associated With
“This is the greatest moment of your life, and you’re off missing it somewhere!” he shouts angrily into the Void of Me.
Me, I’m the hypnotic-induced center of the universe, my mind constantly playing back each moment and reliving endless details in psychedelic fashion. I’m reeling from the doses earlier, but not too bad thanks to the contermeasures I was sure to include in the package.
My stupid inner-voice of conscience, always scrutinizing details that should just be left alone, leaves no peace in the end. I’m watching Memoirs of a Geisha for the first time, a movie with excellent screenplay.
I’m getting so sick of this same old routine: yellow-oblong Watson 853s, bigger, chunkier blue Watson 540s, white M363s. Every afternoon I wake up and eat this multicolored bag of skittles from Hell. This is just to make it throught the next six hours, nothing more. The phone rings all night while I’m trying to sleep; people are calling to tell me about their bad backs and their headaches they can’t deal with alone.
Here I am and this is what I’m good for.
