By Nous

                             August 9, 2005

AUG9: Learning The Fretboard

Jostled awake by my mom with the phone in her hand, and soon I'm off
to eat tacos for breakfast. All day, the backyard is a haven for the
two young men in the universe who anger god with their sentences.
Karma will kick all of our asses.
And all today I hoped that my soul would just expire. I used that word
too. Expire. I don't know why, but I couldn't stop using it. I think
its because of that poem I wrote, "Atrophy," and its last three lines:

The candle of dim light
Which in the darkness did expire
Leaving behind the wax of desire

After many hours, I broached the subject and asked Jason if he thought
the soul could expire, if one chose it to be so. This is first of all
assuming we all have souls, which I believe. So he said that he hoped
so, and he would do it in a minute.
I also would choose to have me simply disappear. Expire.
I thought about it and thought about it.
As Kati took me home, Jason in the back seat with a fever, I continued
to think about it, and I felt this horrible flush come over. I thought
about jumping out of the car, into traffic. I thought maybe I would
get hit and go into a coma. Even death would be cool, even preferable
since in that situation my parents wouldn't have to deal with hospital
bills. Although I guess the funeral might cost quite a bit of money
too.
I held onto the arm rest of the car. I thought about jumping out the
entire ride to my house. Kati snapped her fingers in my face and I
relaxed my grip, but the thought didn't expire.
Once home, I pretty much bolted out of the car to my house and into my
room. I fell on my bed and lay there for a few minutes. Then out of
nowhere, something came over me. I started fidgeting like crazy on
my bed, talking to myself. It felt like it lasted for maybe ten minutes
and when I came out of it, I wondered what had happened.
Then I looked at the clock and it was 7:48.
Somehow, almost an hour had passed since I got home.
Fifteen minutes later I listened to Tennessee Waltz, sung by Patti
Page, and ate a hamburger.  Her echoing voice filled the room, as
did the beautiful, sad music -- a soft trombone in the background.
I nearly spit up the chewed up hamburger in my mouth.
It was a song I'd heard a million times before, something I'd sung
along with, something familiar. And at that moment it was the saddest
thing in the entire world.