The Hum

  

Jesus.  I ate part of a gummy last night.  I don't know why I do it.  I just needed the edge taken off a bit, and since I'm not drinking, there were few options.  But the edge needed smoothing.  For some reason, sitting in my underwear on a cushion alone in my house meditating just isn't appealing to me the way it should.  I've lost all purity, I guess.  I've even lost corruption.  All I have is weeding and Kombucha.  Some nights, it feels like my nerves are being pulled across a cheese grater.  

But my days alone may be coming to an end.  The other day, I got this email.  

I got excited and sent this around to many of my friends.  They, like I, took it as a joke.  She wants to make the sexy time, they said.  Are you sure she has "the vagine"?  They urged me to respond.  

Boy were they wrong!  The email is legit.  After I wrote her back, she sent me a more detailed description of her and her life, and she sent me a number of photographs.  She is beautiful!  And she is going to come visit me in the United States.  I've sent the money for the plane ticket.  For some reason that I don't understand, it had to be purchased in Russia.  And boy. . . airline tickets from Russia are EXPENSIVE!  I couldn't believe how much.  But she said that if she gets to stay in the U.S. and A. she will get a job and pay me back.  She said she would let me know when she will get here when she is able to purchase the ticket.  There is a LOT of red tape to go through, she says.  It isn't easy.  I will have to be patient, but boy is it hard.  I can't wait until she gets here.  

This is how the world is for me right now.  A big event is running into a friend at the grocery store as I did last night.  As we stood in the parking lot talking, he pulled out one of those thermometers you point at someone's forehead and took his temperature.  He said he had been bothered by allergies and in the Time of Covid wanted to make sure he wasn't running a fever.  He pointed it at me.  Nothing.  He fiddled with it and pointed it again.  Nothing.  He pointed it at himself.  97.8.  He pointed it at me again.  Nothing.  People in the parking lot were watching like I had done something wrong.  I looked around and did the schlemiel shrug.  He fiddled with the thermometer and took his temperature.  Slightly higher.  He pointed it at me.  Nothing.  I said, "Give me that," and pointed it at myself.  Nope.  Nothing.  

Apparently, I no longer exist.  I have felt that way for months, but now it is confirmed.  

Twice yesterday, I pulled out into traffic in front of cars I didn't see coming.  Twice!!  Should I not be driving?  I am blaming it on isolation, of not having enough visual stimulation.  One of my friends got confused on the gas and brake and ran into a pole in parking lot, not once, but twice.  Jesus.  A generation of aging drug addicts is a dangerous thing.  

I got up late and still buzzy, so this is silly and mercifully brief.  I have a day of exciting things ahead of me--exercising, weeding, planting. . . etc.  What's that fucking buzzing?  Do you hear it?  That hum?  

Oh, yea.  That's my life.