The light-buzzing numbness of the after flight dehydration--the sodium food and low air pressure plugging the intestines and bloating the soft-tissues. The reanimation of constricted muscle-groups poisoned by alcohol and lack of sleep. The want the need the pain of piss passageways, stinging from piss rationing.

Being called stupid, being called foolish, childish, head in the clouds. Watching the faces of deformed, listening to their demands, pretending not to hate their blemishes, scars of anxiety, burn victims patchwork hands, pressing small-change into them with average handed bravado--perhaps bad luck comes to those who touch these hands--Smiling back at the lip less, feigning personal connection with the fuckability of those who could afford gleaming strait orthodontic lines aside from all else. Realizing she works in a Liquor store beside a discount market beside a slumping commercial oriented knitting supplies and RU-486 byway. She didn't check my ID, which is strange considering that people ID me going into porn shops, and I'm 23. I'm strange like her she likely mused--the camaraderie of the strange faced--We're I to see myself as being considered a compatriot with this one, when I was 10 I would be horrified and demand to know what was wrong.

A childhood friend once told me that if he could have one wish granted, he would like to see himself as he would appear in 10 years. I thought that a very strange wish at the time. I find the thought stranger now that he is a stranger to me...a darker, more sadistic, and driven to given to the rockets of home-house-marriage and brown leather loafer old boys club, brass and fern bars, on the happy periphery of ivy leage regalia, confused biologically--wanting to kill the mother, friends with the sister above the mother type.

Green room, green darkness. A massive pillow, wrapped in plastic, green and red with a Greenbay Packers logo...Made to look like a brick of cheese. Friend convinces me to mix it with my thoughts of starships, attacking me in my face with plastic models exploding for 70's pre-programmer age nerds, finding ways to invent the ways they would waste their time, smocked in hawaiian shirts, curly long hair and bearded, unlike me (evermore). They WASTE thier time with beauty these guys. They WASTE their time with perfecting (to what end anyway?). THEY LEARN TO COMPLETE THE RUBIC'S CUBE IN LESS THAN 45 SECONDS, FROM ANY POSITION. I Tell their girlfriends "I WANT YOU DEAD" in so many words, throwing friesbees above razorsharp steel clotheslines for them to cut their own heads off at catching. Heads toppled down from egos presuming to teach me about the mores, muddy formation off the coast of Ireland; fucking bitch stupid erudite clumsy dork fucks aborting their clever oversensitive bs out of existance thankfully.