The soothing snap of a staple gun wakes me from anesthesia. I try and hold still. My head droops a bit from fatigue and dual tiny metal spikes being crushed into my scalp.
crack
I shake my head at myself. Home surgery is never as effective as I imagine it will be. I get to the part where bits of my skull are peeled away-- the elbow-deep gore staining my forearms-- before I realize that the sound of a good idea has evaporated. All that remains is an absolute mess. A cesspool of what seemed like a reasonable course of action at the time.
I bury it back inside my mind. Little cysts of disappointment, turned frustration. Grown into anger and inserted behind my eyes.
11:47 p.m. - 2014-09-28
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
As-I-know-it
Nicim
Breathe-Salt
Swordfern
Star-Brite
Swallowthkey
ATwoWayDream
HumHum
Secret-motel
AndWeBreathe
MovingSands
WeAteTheSea