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Head in a Bucket

I would have been back sooner, but I got my head sucked into a bucket and I'm still trying to yank it out.

I've been sort of squished and molded into something frighteningly unlike me. Something I don't for the life of me have any way of recognizing. I'm trying to unfold myself and push out the wrinkles and the bends and the sleeves pushed up and back and all wrongway. When I start to get it sorted out - finally begin to see a bit of the me that there was before - something recognizable beginning to take shape, but still damaged, irrevocably altered - I gasp in unprepared shock and horror to see the gaping tattered edged eviscerated hole in the stomach of the sweater that was my self.

I'm pissed. I'm not holding it together well. I need ammunition. But I'm soft. And quite fucking alone in it.

M

Comments

Murph said…
Sounds rather unpleasant, Need to getcha some o that fancy city lubricant what they sell at tha big box stores. We squirted soma that on cousin Cletus when he get his head stuck inna bucket, popped that sucker off slicker'n fried possum. :D

Feel better.
Illegitimati non carborundum.
3:42 am
mayim said…
Thanks Murph ... I'm trying my best.
9:12 am
Murph said…
Some weeks thats all that can be done. Sometimes you just have to figure that every day you wake up is better than every day you don't. Like they say, "Live long, Live well, it pisses off your enemies":D
1:46 am
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