TAKING MELODRAMA TO ELEVEN PART THREE - What I actually do when someone wrongs me, or I feel that someone has wronged me:

SO, I have been sitting inside pretty much the whole day - and don't even give me any shit about this, I needed it, I'm the motherfucker who worked 7 or 12 or however many days in a row before this without going to the lake or fishing or having friends over for board games or even getting drunk - anyway, inside pretty much all day EXCEPT for the time where I went to Fred Meyer to buy some brownies to go with my ice cream. Now I'm worried I have too many brownies and not enough ice cream, so I may have to go to Fred Meyer, AGAIN. So, I have been pretty much sitting around here, eating ice cream and brownies, and making sandwiches and soup and watching bad movies and sort of just feeling like shit in general, but I guess I am emailing and kind of writing my balls off, which is also a good thing, I suppose - the writing that is, not the balls off - and just sitting inside, feeling fat and old and generally waiting for life to suck some more before I die.

I did kind of play with the Rover for like four minutes.

the phone has been BLOWING THE FUCK UP all day, and I am proud to say that I have not checked messages yet, but some of these people (are they people? is this how real people behave?) have been calling AGAIN AND AGAIN without leaving messages (I bet) and some of these people are Joel and the guy with a mexican-sounding-name who paid for something recently, and that Will Sloop kid (Does HE think I am old and over?) and maybe Fred, but I;'m all like "Fuck THAT shit! I'm not answering that fucking phone. Call back. Do it. CALL BACK, MOTHERFUCKERS, CALL AND HANG UP AND CALL BACK AND SEE IF I ANSWER THE PHONE THEN! THINK YOU'RE ALL CLEVER AND SHIT? CALLING AND NOT LEAVING MESSAGES? Wait 'til I get your car in here. We'll see who's clever THEN, won't we? When I'm rubbing my balls all up on your door handles and steering wheel, WHO IS GOING TO BE CLEVER THEN???? " - Basically shit like that. Fucking phone. I just turned that ringer OFF. Fuck it. All these crumbsnatchers, don't make me hit the caps lock again Baby, alright? Please don't get me started about the phone.

So ANYWAY, eating too much garbage, emailing, the phone, staying inside, I smell my feet again. I don;t know why I have shoes on. I don't have anything else on, why do I have shoes on? Why do I smell my feet? I didn't exercise. ... OH THAT'S RIGHT, I HAVEN'T TAKEN A SHOWER IN A WHILE. That's why with the feet, the thing with the feet. so, THIS is what it is like when you just say fuck it and let yourself go at 39, and get all old and fat and go crazy like Howard Hughes, except you aren't rich and you never had sex with a movie star and you can't fly an airplane - so it is actually NOT like Howard Hughes, except for the part where you get old and stay in your room eating junk food and watching movies and going crazy.

What was I saying?

OH, I KNOW. The Nugget:

The Nugget: I feel like I'm in a cocoon, and I know I have to come out tomorrow, but in the meantime I hunkered down in this building, in the dark (Like a caterpillar, get it?) and I unpacked all the shit out of my mind and spread it around me on the floor like I used to do with those dirty magazines when I still lived at home with my parents - but that is a different story- I spread all the shit going on in my mind in a big circle around me on the floor so I can pick each piece up and examine it and decide what to do with it, keep it? throw it away? and while I am doing this I am growing stronger or weaker , I'm not sure - but I am CHANGING is the point, like the fucking caterpillar, right? Evolving? I mean, I can feel this change happening, but I am looking at all this shit on the floor now, all of the stuff from my mind, and I know I can't fit it all back in there (remember the BLIVET?) and now shit is going to be different just like the caterpillar, and I have run out of time, it is Spring now, or Summer, whatever time it is when you have to tear out of your cocoon, you don't have any more time left to change, so you had better be ready to go, someone had better tell somebody to clear a fucking path, because IT IS TIME. That is what the last 30 or 40 hours have been like, a throbbing hot dark pocket to shift and fidget inside of while I eat too much and sort through my thoughts and try to cut some of what I believe in away and try to fit some other new belief in there, where it does not fit, I have to fool myself into believing new things, I have become good at doing this in the last twenty years, I can do it when I need to. So this is the time now where I hold my breath so I swell up and fill up inside this thing, I have to hold my breath as long as I can and tense my muscles and roll my eyes back into my head and hold still and begin to vibrate with tension and effort and I remain there like that for as long as I can, and if I am very lucky, and I mean VERY LUCKY, I will feel wings tear through the flesh and skin of my back and break apart this shroud I've been in, and I will be able to shake it all off and then move ahead actually better than I was before I went into it. If I am not very lucky, I will be able to swell up enough to break out of here, but I will not have wings. If I am VERY unlucky, I will be stuck in this thing for a long time. I'm thinking I'll be regular lucky this time.

That's what I've been doing. Now you know. ISN'T IT GREAT!!!? THE CATERPILLAR??

Maybe I'm more like a pollywog?