Matryoshka69’s Weblog

fever crawls through my skin

warms my eyes, colors my cheeks

settles in my forehead

the blood is boiling but chill to the touch

my throat itches and my neck burns

perspiration beads on my chest

uncomfortably

my body heat is suffocating me under the blanket

it’s like sharing my bed

with an overheating man, but I

can’t kick him out or move to the cooler corner.

my ears are ringing the way a door buzzer might, quietly

but i’m alone;

i’m angry

and my body is not cooperating

it’s not responding the way i want it to

it’s no comort to me,

because it’s stewing along with me

a sweaty, faithful, stupid dog

its paws spread askew over my belly.

the hot lemon tea soothes my glands,

its warmth tranquilizing.

I close my eyes,

excited for the dreams that might come.

now my mom’s in the hospital. my god,  i have this horrible feeling. she’s always sick because she’s so stressed, and she won’t let anyone help her.  she’s such a freaking go-getter. ever since i was little, i was afraid she was going to get cancer. it was always a bizarre and unfounded feeling.

i should be terrified, but i’m sucked dry right now. i can’t stand to think of her in pain. we’ve always been there for each other, pulling ourselves through. ever since my dad and brother passed away (sorry, “died”- i forget not to be p.c) i’ve been very calm about death. as in, the deaths of others, my own death, the deaths of my loved ones, etc. but i’m not supposed to lose her. i’m getting ahead of myself. she’ll be ok. when i don’t know what’s going on my imagination runs away with me. i’ll worry about these things when the doctors find out what’s wrong.

god, i don’t want her to be in pain. she’s in so much pain lately. and she feels worthless and frustrated because she wants to work, and run, and be active; not lie in a hospital bed and be taken care of.

actually, today I woke up feeling like a brand-new person.  the sky was blue, the breeze was nice. i didn’t sleep at all but i put on some red lipstick when i went out (because i felt like it, lipstick!) and people looked at me like a freaking movie star. i studied, and i finally went to the financial aid office. tomorrow i can finally sign up for the loan i’ve been meaning to get for four months. i went to the church on lexington (they like me there because i’m jewish, and that obviously makes me interesting) and breathed in the woody, stony church smell. then i walked out and was immediately accosted by two hippies who asked me to join greenpeace. which i did, bitches. then, just for good measure, i dropped my cell phone into a sewer grate. the corner hot dog men and construction workers immediately swarmed the vicinity to try prying it out with a big metal stick. i didn’t even ask them for help, and they literally rallied to the rescue! i ran to the bank to get some cash to buy fly paper to stick onto the metal thing, and when i came back there were, i shit you not, no less than twelve guys crowding the grate and prying it open with a crowbar. i don’t even know how they got a crowbar. i tried buying them all hot dogs and they wouldn’t have it. one opportunist said he wouldn’t mind a hot dog and the crew almost beat him up. just to desintegrate all the hatred i’ve been harboring for this city. i love new york.

i’m going to move to india to massage the lepers. i’ve already decided.

 why the fuck is it that people have to be jolted out of their skulls to appreciate anything at all? it’s fucking ridiculous, really. so S’s sister almost died friday, and i had no idea until today. from someone else. when i stopped hyperventilating and made sure she was going to be ok, my first thought was: why didn’t he tell me? since when did i stop being his comfort and his softness? i know the answer to that. and i can’t do anything about it. then i called his parents, and they said she is ok and is already miraculously able to sit up and talk to them for a few minutes. god bless those positive people, honestly. they were really ok when i talked to them on the phone. i love them so much.

i hate myself for feeling helpless. i really do. it doesn’t fucking MATTER at ALL that i feel jealous and desperate knowing that i should have been there for him seconds after he found out, doing what i had prepared myself to do those years we were together. since when did i become bad for him? i know the answer to that.

scrap everything. just scrap everything. ankita and i went on my roof and destroyed things. we lived tonight. we didn’t care that the cat man in the next building yelled at us for accidentally hitting his window with a smashed cookie. we made it literally rain angel hair pasta, and then we burned it and made it crunch deliciously like brittle little bones when our boots stomped on the big pile. it was wonderful. i’ve never been that angry in my life. but tonight, i raged and raged. i let myself scream from the pit; a big, juicy scream that probably woke up everyone in the neighborhood. big deal, you really can’t ever get any privacy around here. nothing matters except the feelings we have now. and what we are left with at the end. it’s so true,  no matter how cliche it is. all that matters is that we find out what makes us happy, and do it. what’s anything worth, especially our struggles, if we can’t pinpoint when we felt alive and ourselves?