I should explain, though I'm not sure if I'm even going to make sense but that's no different than usual. I have an acute fear of being misunderstood. This sometimes leads me to overexplain and by overexplaining, I miss the larger point. Oh shit I'm doing it right now!
My fucking ankle is swollen up like a god damned piece of balogna and my foot, accordingly hurts like a motherfucker (I'm thinking Oedpius 'cause he hurt his god damned eyes BUT he also had swollen feet because his parents pierced his foots to make sure he died). I was washing my dishes last Tuesday and suddenly fell to the right because my right ankle collapsed right under me! I can't even fucking walk on it anymore so I've been crawling about and devising a really fucking sweet pulley mechanism (thank God my hands still work, are you with me ladies????) that allows me to navigate around my apartment. But my dishes, they remain unwashed!
YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS DON'T YOU FUCK HEADS?
Unwashed dishes + water + food on them = FUCKING BUGS. Now if you've seen previous entries in my journal, you will know that the bugs have not been the best thing for me. But the bugs aren't what scare me, no, not at all. I'm not scared of bugs. I mean, they have an unnerving effect on me, but what really scares me is that while I was sleeping in the kitchen last night, I woke up in the middle of the night and saw a blue-lines around the edges vision of ALEC FUCKING BALDWIN!
I screamed "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME" but Alec Baldwin just stared down at me and seemed displeased. I told him that I'd read Hamlet, I really would, but that wasn't what he wanted or something maybe he wanted to be Alec Guiness so hard he actually became a Star Wars character by the virtues of a mystical Yoda-fairy or something (you know like a tiny flying Yoda with wings and a skirt, someone should contract John Williams to write a ballet in the style of the Nutcracker with this as the main character) but I don't think any of that is right. I think I was being visited by mystical partially see-through Alec Baldwin because of the things I've done in my life. I haven't been good all the time and I haven't been the best person adn I think Alec Baldwin knows this and he's been reporting it to the Grand Judge Reinhold and he's warning me that if I don't shape up my ways, I am going to be repossesed by Gary Busey or his malevolent son Jake or even, if I've been awful enough, by Nick Nolte whose power with words can diminish most men into soulless crumpled fleshy bits of formless matter.
As I lay there, my ankle bursting forth toxins into my bloodstream, I screamed and started throwing everything I could get my hands on at the Baldwin's form, knowing full well that they would pass right through him and emerge covered in ectoplasm on the other side. Now all my stuff has been slimed and it's all my fault for not being a good person.
So now I live in fear of Gary Busey or his son Jake and in extreme fear of the portents that may indicate that Nick Nolte might visit me in the night and recite a monologue that would reduce me to being composed only of tears. I can't call on anyone for help as the great Treat Williams is nowhere to be found these days and could very well be compromised. I would call on the powers of Walken but there is NO WAY that I am going to go through that hell again. Like Roy "Jaws" Scheider said in Jaws 2, there is no way I'm going to go through that hell again. If a shark can eat a helicopter, then I've got to be wary that hummingbirds may be harbingers of pirahana.
I guess I've avoided it long enough. I've got to do better by some people and I've got to do it now and not at the Oscars like I'd been planning. Before Busey's army of bugs begin to get on my nerves and preferably before the bank defaults on my loans. I'm all aloan.