It's lucky the mystery of the bleeding into the toilet was solved—for it was the ever boil popping and leaking ichor out when rubbing on the toilet seat—or today's deluge would have sent me to the emergency room convinced my insides were liquefying and a slurry of organs was sluicing out my arse. The blood, and lots of it, was disconcerting. But the relief to wipe the inside of your leg to confirm it's just ordinary boil blood and not rectal blood is insane.
Articles from Harrangue Man
I had two strong ciders then blew up with gas an hour later. As in feeling inflated on the inside and ripping forth cider spawned nose horrors.Cider. It was just cider. And Chinese food.Stupid body; except it's not, that would imply malice or negligence on its sentient part. It's not its fault.But it could always be worse; always.
I talk to myself when driving alone; it's a habit from practicing for talking that blew into emotional release if my steam needed venting. So I boiled off on a four minute drive back from the shops to the point of spittle-flecked shouting as the anger consumed me. It was the same record; being saddled with a fucked body and navigating a world who saw fit to monster me for it. Whether it was active or passive, either way it was fucked.
I have reduced mobility with a slow, shuffling gait. But I was working in a place where fast walking is the norm and needed for normal business. So I upped my pace to keep pace with others and then went on assorted missions that involved lots of walking. I got a stitch and nearly threw up multiple times as my wobbly body was put through the ringer. I'm balding and that means bald sweat.
I was circumcised as a baby for no medical reason but for desert warfare. Seriously, my mum looked at me and thought "desert warfare" and "this will keep it clean."I suppose I should be impressed at her geopolitical foresight to snip the foreskin but due to not turning in the womb my stunted skeleton was in no way fit for warfare.
It wasn't an actual hole, like, in the dirt or anything. It's just that the foam mattress I'd used since I was probably ten had compressed with my more solid form and created a hole. Not through the mattress but a depression that was noticeably foetal short man shaped, I pointed this out a number of times; the (w)hole situation.
The other day I was in a fear cake; caked in fear. It was like I was baked into it and I could not move it was that paralyzing. I had to go through a long list of titles to make sure something was not there.
I had a psych visit where I was angry and I cried. When we got home I crawled into bed and slept the grief off. I felt better for it. It was better than being awake and fixating on what was said. Hooray for a shut down reboot; sometimes you really do have to turn it off and on again.
RidingI rode up an embankment of concreted rock. I didn't mean to, I didn't use both brakes is all. On another ride I rode into a hedge; well, through it. My arm dragged through thorny greenery for a few seconds until I could wobble away. Stupid hedge. Stupid me for riding through it.MeerkatWe have some; most are terrified. They look up with a mute scream.
It was pissing buckets in the nation's capital and about a half dozen times the car aquaplaned for what felt like a heartbeat or two. You had to grip the wheel and keep the accelerator down without cruise control to maintain control and go slower---I wonder if you can get an un-speed camera ticket because I passed one at 70 in a 100 zone.I used to joke with overseas visitors that, no, they were unlikely to see kangaroos just hopping about in Canberra.