At Night when I see Scissors
Up late. It’s past midnight. Feeling moody and I have that rare craving for a cigarette, one of my cloves. I don’t know why I smoke the damn things, I don’t like them. I wanted to just go out and think, consider and they give my hands something to do. I wanted to do things and think things that exemplify the mood. I love the emotional orgasm. So I get dressed and I’m looking for a shirt. I almost exclusively wear work shirts it seems. Here, there, all work shirts. I’m digging around for one of my regular black ones. No dice. The tones go off before I find anything, so I just grab a work shirt and head to the station. My work face is on.
Once we’re in the back of the med, there’s wasps. My partner is apparently scared of them. A man three times my size, scared of bees and their ilk. Me, I just wonder how the hell they got back there in the middle of the night. There were moths too. Whatever. I grab a paper towel and grab them midair, those gamer reflexes. Get called Mr. Miyagi the rest of the night.
On the way home I’m in back. There’s an extra oxygen tank beneath a side seat and straps on that seat to hold it down in case you need it. I lay down and strap myself in and try to sleep the way home. I don’t. I’m in a weird place between rest and wakefulness and I think and think. I don’t remember about what. I’m in a daze when we get back to the station.
Get home. Feeling itchy, but most of it’s in my head. They had MRSA, a communicable skin infection, a real nasty one. So I toss my clothes into the washer and start it. Hop in the shower, turn it cold and I sit waiting for a few before I get in. I’m kinda ticked that I had a call when I wanted to go out and now the feeling is all convoluted. Eh. I give up on trying to recapture it and just get inside. I’m kind of annoyed at still having my night eyes from the pseudo-rest in the back of the med. I wanted darkness. Being able to distinguish the grays just screws the sensation I want up. Sigh. Get washed. Run out of suds by the time I hit my left leg. Say fuck it and sit down under the spout. It was really nice. Turned it down, down, down. It’s hot out and the cool feels amazing. I’m operating in a half-daze-sleepwalk kinda mode right now and I don’t remember doing it, but the water is warm now, almost hot. I turn it up. Feels amazing. I get up and wash my hair but don’t rinse. Wash my body again, starting with the legs that got neglected earlier. Work my way up, don’t run out of suds this time, we’re foamy all the way. Rinse it off. Sit down again and let the hot water run out. Why not? Why not.
I get out, dry off and feel pretty fabulous. I’m thinking about Ashley, a girl I used to really enjoy. I consider calling her and think that I probably will later today. I probably won’t, but right now I feel better thinking that I probably will. I hope she’s doing well. I think about Launa too and miss her. That’s alright. I think about Bree and stop myself because that one is much too dangerous, much too dangerous. Instead I distract myself by grabbing my laundry. No dice, Amy has her own things in the dryer. Well. Okay then, back in the washer you go, you’ll just get washed twice, same as me. The parallels happen in threes, I wonder what the third is? I hope it’s Kate. I hope she’s doing well too.
And so I try to focus again, to think about something worth writing and an idea that will hopefully spark some idea in someone’s mind. I’m trying to be clever but nothing’s coming out and so I’m writing this. A nothing about my night and about where I am. Nowhere. I am nowhere.
Which is something. Sort of. I enjoy nowhere. I enjoy the empty feeling and the nothingness. It makes me feel at one with the universe and all things. The world has it wrong you know. The universe is not about feeling full or filled. It’s much more about feeling empty. We just see it as being full of something because we never go back to the real base state; emptiness. We often talk about the speed of light and how fast it is and how it illuminates everything and this concept is the base-state of our worldview. But darkness was there before light; emptiness was there before anything gets there. And that’s alright. There’s nothing wrong with that, it doesn’t have to be melodramatic depression to think such thoughts. It could just be a feeling of infinite potential because you’re so full of nothing that you could be and do anything you wanted. And that is grand.