Entry Fifty-seven: Save Me, Black Jesus

[A story in many parts: Part Eight of Thirteen]

Chapter Five

There’s been a lot of activity today. More than usual. Actually, a lot more than usual. What’s frustrating is everyone keeps mumbling and I can’t make out much of what they’re saying. The Oriental doctor has been in and out, looking at his clipboard, taking notes, shining that stupid light in my eyes. I don’t know how he expects me to react when he does that but I always seem to disappoint him. Sorry, dude, but I’m a little limited in what I can give you.

Look, all of my bitching aside, it’s not so bad in here. In fact, most of the time I’d call it great and, believe me, I know it could be a lot worse. My life out there was nothing to get all excited about, I can assure you of that. Lot’s of missed opportunities and regrets which become crystal clear when you look back. Why is that? I hate that about life. When I was a serious player in the game it was all moving so fast. Decisions had to be made immediately, which always upped the potential for mistakes. I’m sure I did okay, had my share of wins, but all I can remember were the losses, the teeth grinding and then the acid-producing anxiety afterwards. Some folks guess better, I suppose, but I was famous for being wrong. Oh, never right away, when it was easier to adjust and make things right. My mistakes always showed up much later, when the impact could be as wide spread as possible. My strongest memories are not of being right but of trying to set things right. At least hiding in here, in me, is easy. All the decisions are made for me and I just exist. I used to dream of a life like this, especially when everything was crumbling to hell all around me, and now I’m living it. It’s not perfect, but what is? I don’t even know if I’d come out of this now if I wanted to. If it wasn’t for the constant interruptions it might actually be a perfect existence. If everyone would just leave me alone I’d be all right. I’d miss Eve, though; I’m sure of that. But the doctors? The nurses? The Mexicans? Not a bit. Maybe if I could work out a scenario where just Eve visits and no one else, I could ride this out a while longer.

All words and images ©2005/J. Colle

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