Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Cat Scratch Fever (Week Four The Quickening!)

It is the beginning of the fourth week of my journey with cat scratch fever, it is the best of time and the worst of times.  Many of you may recognize that quote from Highlander Two The Quickening.  I think the screen writer of Highlander Two is often maligned and unfairly so.  Okay that quote is actually form a Tale of Two Cities but I am thinking that in this day and age that Highlander Two would be less obscure than a Tale of Two Cities.

As I look over the previous paragraph I think some readers might think I am a pedantic asshole.  I think that impression is coming through because I am a pedantic asshole, at least some of the time.  Another truth that most be told in the second paragraph is week four of cat scratch fever is not really like the quickening at all, the movie or the individual event when our Highlander buddy separates some heads if you know what I mean.

Paragraph three begins with another truth, it sucks to be sick and it sucks worse when you are already sick with a weird, rare chronic disease, you know like sarcoidosis.  Today I slept sixteen hours.  When you are down to eight hours of waking time you start to feel like taking a shit is not a good use of your time and maybe I should get a colostomy bag.  I try to use what is left of my rationale brain to analyze this and realize the stupidity of the idea but for a short time it seems like a good and that all would be right with the world.

Just for the record I think paragraph three was gratuitous and since I am counting paragraphs is this one sentence that I have interjected to be counted as a paragraph?  It was meant to be an aside, like breaking the fourth wall during a play with one quick comment but now some how it has become a paragraph.  These are strange times and there is more in Heaven and Earth than is thought of by your philosophy/science, this is of course a beautiful quote from the bard Jackie Gleason.

To the moon Alice, to the moon...I often wonder whether Alice ever made it to the moon and if she did would she mind if I joined her?  Sometimes I dream of shooting a bullet at the moon but the bullet is so large it can hold me and maybe some books or some futuristic solar powered Kindle.  I would like Alice to keep my mind sharp and distracted from my illness with her sass.  Not enough sass left in the world, that is of course why I think of the moon.

I think this post has become a proof of concept as to my ability to write an absurdest play, that is where the money is these days.  I have tried to model my life after The Bald Soprano as opposed to The Caretaker or Waiting For Godot but despite my efforts it may turn into a Gleasonian Tragedy.  I had a thought just now, how obscure are the references I have made?  I would appreciate feedback except from relatives who know everything so there would be no point for them to chime in, get the hint?

Last paragraph, serious stuff bringing it home in act three or maybe act five?  No one knows how long their time on this earth is and to that end try to take a step back and look at the absurdity that life can be.  My first reaction is to wallow and I think everyone's first reaction would be to wallow, even the sociopaths, it is hard not to wallow.  I would like to make a 1984 reference here but some kind of Animal Farm reference would be much more fitting considering all the wallowing talk but alas it eludes me so be sure to insert your own.

Really the last paragraph, I am going to repeat my thesis statement, being sick sucks.  We are all put on this earth to die and since I have been moderately to seriously ill for the past four, almost five years, I am aware of that.  I have been much closer to death than I am right now and those times I was close to death I entered a Zen state that I did not know I was capable of but this time if I did die it would be from Cat Scratch Fever and that is really harshing my Zen.

Life is absurd, do not forget to smell the fart that has been farted in your general direction before you decide to run, you never know if that fart is going to be your bag.