Strangers Trust Me Enough To Sleep On My Shoulder
Today on the train, a man fell asleep on my shoulder on the subway. I didn’t wake him. I figure he was pretty tired. I think the people across from me found it pretty amusing. Especially when I took a selfie of the two of us.
CUT TO: Much later. On the G train with Robert, the friend who’s taking me in for the night. We just left naked yoga and dinner. Isn’t it odd that I’m ostensibly homeless and I’m living such a wonderful– no, no, I said I wasn’t going to say that again– “homeless.” At the very least, I co-own a house in Alabama I could go live in until I died if I was willing. to. work. in. Ala–
What the hell was all that? Someone just came on the train and started yelling. Apparently there’s a broken rail on this line. “All F and G trains are express to Church Ave!” It scared me when they started yelling. I’m not big on surprises involving mass transit. (It reminds me of Iraq.) It makes me me me taste cortisol. Robert is very good looking.
My stomach’s been hurting bad lately. I think it’s stress. There’s been some blood on the way out lately. Sorry if that’s too much information. It’ll sort itself out. Don’t ask me about it. If it’s still going on in a couple of days, I’ll go to the VA. I really, really, have to focus on getting an apartment pdq. I’m tired of living out of sea bags. I want my dogs and my cat. I want my furniture up here. I want to have a home again. I want to be settled.
I dropped off my shoes to be professionally shined today. I also took my suit to the cleaners. I’ll go tomorrow and buy a new white shirt, tie, belt, and underwear. I am anticipating some job interviews. I have to have a “B job” while I continue to seek funding for the foundation and write and get what I’ve written produced and maybe even trod the boards again. I’m good at it you know. And work is easier to find at this age.
I had a short argument with– no, it wasn’t really an argument. I’m establishing boundaries now more than I ever have in my life. It’s uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Damn, this subway is moving fast. Moving fast! Do you like Samuel Beckett? I love all the Absurdists. Today, I heard someone refer to Jean Genet as an Absurdist. I love Genet, do you? Do you know his work? I hope you do. I love him. Whether or not he’s an Absurdist. J’taime Genet.
We had to jump off the train for some reason. Oh yeah, the broken rail. We road all the way to Church and then came back one stop to– what was the name of that stop? I forgot. We did that instead of getting off at Church because it would have meant a longer walk and it’s raining–yep, raining, not snowing. I bet all this rain is going to freeze tonight. I think we’re supposed to get more snow. That’s going to make the roads a mess. I pray for everyone’s safety who has to drive on it. Isn’t that a weird concept? I mean praying to God to that no one dies on the icy streets tomorrow? If I pray good enough will they stay safe? Is it the quality of my prayer? Is it the number of people praying that makes the difference? Does it make a difference? Is it the holiness quotient of those praying for the safety of the commuters that makes the difference? If no one prays for their safety are they pretty much doomed? A God who operates like that would definitely be an asshole God and I would never want to worship him– or her. Shes can be assholes too, I’ve learned. If they were going to die on the ice anyway and enough pray hard enough does it change God’s mind about their fate?
I’m going to have to sleep on that one. Do you think I’m losing my mind? I am under a lot of stress. I mean if it’s enough to make me bleed out my ass- (’cause that’s sure been “exit only” territory back there lately)– well, that’s some pretty heavy stress.
I have to go back to blogging in the morning. Someone will try to have me committed if I keep blogging at night. I’m usually certifiable by this hour.
Here we are at Roberts. It’s a nice apartment with a great view. He’s a nice guy. Hot too. I got it good, yeah?
Y’all pray that the morning commuters all stay safe and don’t die on the icy roads tomorrow. Until we figure out what the deal with that is, it can’t hurt right?
See y’all tomorrow.
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You’re currently reading “Strangers Trust Me Enough To Sleep On My Shoulder,” an entry on Keynotes
- Published:
- March 4, 2015 / 9:59 pm
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