Lysergic Ice cream






Fever dreams, last humid 88 degree day
2023-09-04, 9:15 p.m.

I like when the house is so silent I can feel the darkness and the soft cocoon of quiet. Every silence is different. I miss the cold silence of snow, how soft it is. And comforting. There is a lot I miss about my life in the arctic but now it is a fever dream. Academia was a mirage. My tweed ankle boots pressing daisies across the street was only my imagination of something beautiful to busy myself with, besides being working person just running around manhattan. The heat of the city keeps boiling my body until I bleed.

It's not that dramatic. But I became transfixed on the synchronicity of 365 coming up in different ways on the license plate of passing cars. Is this a new year in a way? 365 days? I wanted to play these numbers but I felt a foreboding feeling so I ran upstairs I realized I bled a little on my jeans. I was overheated and exhausted. All I could do was eat a cold yogurt and lie down. Until I realized the responsibility of being a freelancer means you have to wake up even when you don't want to.

I woke up with spasticity and attended a job interview, only to learn I chose the one day that our labors are forgiven and celebrated. So I drank my cold brew in peace and spilling it on the floor, began the cleaning proceedings. My one pristine square in the center of a dirty kitchen. The spasticity became metallic. The pain became steel like and unresponsive to what everyone says will work, magnesium, stretching, shower. Barbiturates later, I find myself wanting to go back outside and buy fizzy water or candy but the metal is still looming, ready to pierce me in invisible ways that no one fully believes. When the cure is being asleep I know there is nothing more they can do. So I write a note to remember. The next time I need to give an update. There wasn't anything else they were willing to do besides let me sleep. It's getting harder to eat. I just eat the equivalent to biltong so my muscles stop overreacting, even though this pain the reason I can't eat in the first place, I'll vomit regardless.

last - next