I remember in the early days of this experience I was let loose on Christmas evening 2012 and I went to my Dear Brother’s home. It was just my dear brother, his oldest boy, tuck and myself. I was thrilled to be at my dear brother’s home but in a half an hour I became delirious from my blood sugar plummeting. I missed lunch and dinner at the hospital and when my dear brother picked me up we were all in good spirits so we didn’t’ really think about food and suffering from this insidious Diabetes Type II I can’t go without food for any period of time. The great irony of this disease. Once again I was being hauled to Good old Lima Mem. Kel and Chuckles were at Kel’s parents. They were Tuck and Chuckles grandparents, Kel’s parents.
Kel’s papa had been the vice president of two NFL teams the last being the Saint Louis rams. He took the whole family to the super bowl and I met him and his lovely wife. She was a stunning woman with beautiful olive skin.
Kel’s papa also had a brother who helped start the tea party who was an uber psychotic conservative. Dear brother and I and rock and roll brother weren’t allowed to meet this Dick because we were all liberals and the tea party hated liberals and our black president. I will give this Dick credit when TardBush took office this Dick hated TardBush so much that he stepped down from his position in Washington stating that he would not serve under this man. I always thought that was pretty cool.
Some days are saturated with sadness and a claustrophobic madness that just frays the edges of logic. I found myself earlier feeling so sad that my daughter diligently comes to see me three times a week and she also has to schedule her sons school into all of that and her artist partner and her mother and of course her job. She looked very stressed and tired today and I didn’t like the fact that I was contributing to that stress.
I have been a hardhead for most of my life. I lived my life according to my standards and that meant that I worked hard, I fucked often and I lived beyond the norm. I spent eons of lifetimes wasted on the latest high and I danced with the devil and death too many times. So here I am not doing any of those things right now. My future is up in the air and I am beginning to feel like a caged animal.
Well a caged animal that has more woman and young girls messing with my Willy than ever before.
It happens quick in these places. You throw all dignity out the window. Being modest in these places will not get you cleaned up or taken care of. Oh I still have moments of heat surge through me but there really is nothing that can be done about it here or at least I haven’t pursued that yet. There’s a lot of flirting that goes on and I’m ok with that. There are a couple nurses and aides that I fool around with and it feels groovy to join in that interplay.
There is also a little man I think he is Chinese and he is possibly the most annoying of them all and it’s not because he’s rude or mean or abusive, no it’s because he tries so damn hard. He wants me to believe that because of his spiritual connection with whatever or whoever he believes he will give me better care and the truth of the matter is that he doesn’t. I sort of feel bad but he is just so annoying.
I struggle more each and every day that passes by. I feel so trapped at times and at times it gets bad enough that I can’t breathe right. It doesn’t last long but it’s so intense when it come upon me that I just want to run wild and desperate outside of these brick walls and run free through this vast and raging city. Oh howl for me you wild beast of the night. Let my spirit run free.
I found and old keyboard album by Michael Hoeing, titled “Departure from the northern wasteland”. I heard this record in 1977 when my life was crumbling before me like all my molecules were being spilled to the floor making a loud, reverberating melody of chaos and madness and then rolling in all directions. I made a new playlist by adding this collection of music and Steven Halpern’s new work “Deep Theta” collection of music and then to spice it up I slipped in Klaatu’s “Little Neutrino”. None of these groups or their recordings or their songs are recognized by the music listening crowd from any generation but I absolutely love this music. I finally broke down and bought Pink Floyd’s “Meddle” so I could include “Echoes’ in this sleep meditation playlist.
I don’t even know what this kind of music is called. Is it Ambient, New Age or is it Electronic? I do know this that with meditation in a pitch black room and the stones and other substances necessary I can transcend to another plain of existence, be it of the future, of the past or happing right now right next to my own reality. I also know it’s as real as my own breathing.
Almost every day after physical therapy I both get sick and throw up or I just gag for fifteen minutes. It’s like I get motion sickness. The nurses and the doctors don’t seem too concerned. What’s funny is that most of the doctors, nurses and aides take off running if you start barfing. They can be slinging shit all over the place or ankle deep in piss and that is not a problem but bring up some bile and you will clear the room. Except for the physical rehab people. Nothing bothers these girls. They can wipe your ass or empty your folly bag or stand right there with you while you hurl up some foul smelling evil that had been resting in your stomach. I am a firm believer that the twelve to eighteen pills I take at a time may also have something to do with the daily barf.
I have surrounded myself with my hobbies while I am here and if I need to go somewhere after this. I bought a new really nice camera which I really won’t be able to use until I am either walking again or mobile with a wheelchair or a go cart. I know they are called scooters. I want mine to be a go cart.
I bought a really nice guitar and all the accessories to go with it. It’s an acoustic. The problem here is that I haven’t had a guitar in my hands in more than a year so my hands are weak because of not playing and everything that has happened so it will take some time and practice.
I bought a new laptop with a large screen. I bought one of the mini laptops and a tablet and a new iPhone, oh and a bunch of new clothes which I won’t be able to wear until I get to the next facility.
There are still days though with all of these toys around me when I can feel so alone, so desperately lonely. Just wanting a familiar face, a loving face or to just go on a Sunday drive with my dear brother and his two boys or to spend the day with my daughter and grandson in Sunflowers back yard with her grill and veggie garden which is Wyeth’s project now also.
When I was in my middle and later thirties, I think, I’m terrible at judging time or the age of somebody or myself it was probably the strangest time of my life. I was living with my dear brother in an amazing house facing Goodale Park. This was a while ago and it was still costing us 1600.00 a month but we had roommates. There was Larry, a friend of my dear brother’s and Janet, another friend of my dear brother’s. It was still too expensive and too nice for a bunch of drunks and dopers to be living in.
We were always drunk or high and the house was starting to look like crazies lived there. Well actually, crazies did live there.
We ended up having a woman with MS living in the basement who was obsessed with me and dear brother moved his girlfriend in who was rich and Larry decided to bring a big dog that shit monuments all over the house and the back yard and he also dug up the back yard so much it looked like bombs had been dropped in our yard. I was going through a phase and had all kinds of women stay over. They were all from the program and we had all relapsed.
I could write a book on that time and I will refer back to it periodically but I brought it up now because I remember that things got really weird with the girl in the basement. She was into voodoo and I caught her one night cutting a piece of my hair off so she could perform a love ritual on me. I was still drunk and didn’t really think about it a lt. I just wanted to go back to sleep so I yelled at her and told her she could have it and passed out again.
There was already some very weird strangeness going on and I think we all knew it was starting to unravel.
The girl in the basement with MS found herself a girlfriend but still kept coming on to me. My dear brother was never around much anymore because he knew the inevitable crash was about to happen.
I came home one night and checked on the woman in the basement with MS and she was with a group of scary people including her girlfriend and they were performing some kind of ritual in a circle and there in the middle of the circle with a lot of other items that I vaguely remember losing was my hair tied in a red ribbon.
I was very drunk so I just crawled up the basement stairs and then started crawling up the main stairs that led to my nice soft bed. About halfway up the stairs I just stopped and started crying uncontrollably. I started talking, “Ok devil, you’ve wanted my soul for a long time and God doesn’t seem too interested with me but I have some stipulations, some rules. I want to be successful and worth over a million dollars and when I turn 57 I’m all yours.” I felt strange like someone had spiked my drink. I was hallucinating and I was really scared which is just so ridiculous I don’t believe in Heaven or Hell, God or the devil but something happened that night and I don’t remember any of it.
Over the years I would find myself thinking about that place and that night especially and would just laugh it off as our drunk and glory days.
Now when I got to 56 I started remembering it more and more but I figured that I hadn’t become a success and worth a million dollars unless you count all the jobs and the failed opportunities.
57 came and went until about September and I became sick. At first I thought it was just the flu but it was a lot more. I was bleeding internally and my blood count was dangerously low and I ended up in the hospital getting a blood transfusion, this is when I found out I was in renal failure and that I was full of infection and I needed to get it out of me.
I was near death last year, well last somewhere around Halloween and the one time I did travel to another world for a brief time and it was difficult coming back to this one.
I am now way into being 58 and I still think about that drunken night on those stairs and whatever was going on in the basement. I don’t believe that the devil is owner of my soul just as I don’t believe that there is a loving vengeful forgiving God wanting my soul also. What I do believe is the power that our minds possess, the unlimited spirit that is in all of us and if we believe in something strongly we will initiate actions from this believing. Our consciousness will be forever altered.
So why did I bring it up. Fuck I don’t remember now.
Is there something sinister in all that went on at that house? Hell I don’t have a clue. I don’t even know if the woman who lived in the basement with MS is still alive.
What I do know is that my kidneys are functioning. They are taking less off of me and reducing my time. What I do know is that it’s going to take some work and time but I am going to walk again and walk up to those fellow comrades that always professed their loyalty to me and who let me down so badly and I will say to each of them, “Shame on you!” And after all of that I will go on an adventure with my dear brother and his two boys and I will go spend the day, hell maybe two or three days with my daughter and my grandson and if I run into Mag, my first wife who is the mother of my daughter, which means our daughter and our grandson and I will ask her forgiveness and try to make my amends.
I will live each day as if it were my last because well you know.
cool peace
hippy mike
love
sprit