This morning as I woke up, the first thing that I noticed was that the room was not coming into focus nearly as fast as it normally does. Then the thought 'oh shit I sent a text didn't I' literally echoed around in my head. I withdrew my phone which was still in my pocket. There was a response to my text. Though it had a angry feel to it, I was happy to actually get a response. I replied apologizing that I sent them a text at 1:44am, at the time it felt necessary.
I got up and went into the bathroom, where I noticed dry blood on my hand. When I act against my nerves and do something anyway, I get nose bleeds. It took a little bit before I remembered and then I laughed at my self, because I had said 'Yeah, you know the greatest thing about this nose bleed, I am going to wake up then be all freaked out when I see the blood on my hand.
Last night my friend and I hung out for the last time before he goes off to college. It was the first time that he had seen me since my birthday... so, one way or another I drank about 300 ml of Wild Turkey Bourbon Whiskey. In my 'heightened' sense of being, I thought it would be a good idea to send a text to someone that had not responded to my last few text messages. About half way through the first word a drop of blood welled up on the end of my nose. I wanted to finish the message so I just put my hand under my nose. When I finished and sent the message I cleaned the bulk of the blood off my hand and told my friend that it was going to be interesting when I find the dry blood and bloody tissues the next morning.
-NK
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4 comments:
Well, y'know, they say cellphones are gonna rot your brain with cancer--and it sounds as if yours is starting to dribble out your nostrils, but, no doubt, a small price to pay for being able to stay in touch at 1:44 am.
If I could travel to early American, right after the revolutionary war. I would, because at that point in time everyone that you wanted to be in contact with lived in the same house. And my passion for walking would not be questioned.
I find that as most of my other athletic interests fall by the wayside due to encroaching old age, walking at least still remains.
I don't know if it is the fact that my father was a postman for two decades, but walking seems to be in my blood.
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