Varryingly what spell is this? Have I know the alpha beta kiss? The beginning of a word is the end of the birds tail feather and I'm alone on a summet to the place where ice melts and lava hardens to stone. You know what he would call this? Mushy. Gushy. Girly. Nico thinks I'm just meat. 'Can I keep my mask on?' I said to him.
I'm so weak. I hate this thing. The way it helps me do the one thing i did for so long- I don't like hiding.
Now, alone again I sit at this island. I sip Aloha long necks that say kinky tossing the caps here and there; pink metal to clink as it collides with the marble flat top. Another stupid sexual phrase and he's all I can graze at the dome of my mind.
Jo's apartment isn't bad but it wreaks of ghosts.
Or am I just drunk? I'm a surgeon for crying out loud. But he's head of Ortho and I'm a lousy resident. I dropped my glasses in someones chest cavity. Am I beneath him? An Ortho God?
Do these hands mean less than his?
I'm a human too aren't I? It's a pandemic, don't we all matter? The african american citizens are stuck in a cycle because of their lack of resources and I'm supposed to focus on trying to helping them right now because at least I can get married but oh, I can't. There's a pandemic. On top of that there's the underlying fact of children waking up in boxes and forced to swallow bigger members than Nico's but Hell complain about the fact that he suffocates me and like's it when my face turns blue from the asphyxiation because I'm not a kid and I can consent to the situation.
Life kind of sucks the whole way around but at least I'm not circling the drain like poor Meredith. She's the only one who's ever treated me like a human being. Oblivious to my stupidity I suppose. Speaking of Oblivious I hate these contacts. I hate glasses. I like being partially blind to the world imagining that I'm deep in the ocean and everywhere I go I can focus on what's in front of me and that alone.
The world is basically a haunting fog right now anyway. No one's out except the sick and people who don't agree with modern medications on account of spiritual and or conspiratorial beliefs. Sometimes I question my own practice. What can I say I'm a nerd? I wish magic was real, that humans could naturally heal, that a giant monster would rip out of the ocean and technology would fail and I could save the world with the essence of my soul but no I'm sitting at home in a two week quarentine because I've been exposed and Jo isn't allowed to come home and i can litterally feel the maggots of delusion eating the flesh of my brain as I want to break everything in here and lie in a bloody puddle on the floor as the misty day becomes a stormy night but I can't move.
My rapid test has yet to come back. What does Covid even do to you? The symptoms are cough and fever. The two most common symptoms in the medical diagnosis. However it affects the nervous system. Each human is designed differently so it gives you what I've been calling the achelies heel syndrome. Your greatest strength becomes a weakness.
Meredith Grey is a doctor at her core. I'm sure what ever she's going through is catastrophic to her mental health.
I can't help but envision myself in her shoes. I see an OR and myself on the table. I see more than that. I see me cutting. Me. I peel back flesh and now I'm gasping for air as I've landed on my back on the living room floor in this cramped apartment finding it hard to breath. There are fingers wrapped around my throat and someone is dragging me over to the bed. I try to scream but nothing comes out.
I fear the worst. That my demons are here to violate and rape me. Am I wrong, even as they pull me into the lip of the sheets and I claw at the fabric ripping feathers out of pillows as the black of shadows eats me and I'm swallowed down into the guzzle of a nightmare consisting of orange fowl scented bubbles, burning rubber, and hole infested grainy concrete that grinds against my blistering skin. No chains though. No gnashing teeth. No lake of fire.
I haven't been casted down into Hell... So then where am I?
What lies at the bottom of the ocean? Why do we keep looking to space? Questions no one has time to ask because we spend every waking moment of our lives slaving away to make the rich richer. Yes I, a white man, just claimed to be enslaved. Guess what, slavery never ended. It just got more complex and features all races, genders, and ethnicity now. Even children work to survive? Don't believe me? Ask detective Benson I'm sure she can fill you in on what you've missed.
What have I missed? Wasn't I just at home? I figured this was me going into a daydream a little aggressively or perhaps I've actually fallen asleep at our little bar. Not really ours anymore is it? She's not going to be home for a while. Who am I to talk? I'm not even home.
A simple waltz piano melody picked up in the canal of my ear and my fear halts in my throat as I turn in the direction from which it came. The waltz is accompanied by a sad elongated dance a little bit further down on the keys and the fingers that are crafting these sounds are so small I have to shudder. A child sits alone at this piano and the agonizing sounds are coming from him.
I hear the sounds of car wheels speeding over grates above my head and there I find the light. I'm beneath Seattle. Maybe I'm not dreaming. But how did I get here?
His small voice echoed out to me over the song he was playing, "You've been standing there for a while sit. Most of you are so quick with it. Can it be over soon? I can't play with the ideas of what's going to happen in my head."
Strong vocabulary for someone so young.
"I don't know what you're talking about but your music sounds lovely." I confess.
He stops playing. Then he spins on the small black bench to look at me, "I don't know how you got in here but you should run. As fast as you can. They will cut you up and make me watch. Sir please. Go. This never happened."
Chattering came from above and a group of kids walked over the grate. They sound excited. One of them dropped something here it comes now fluttering down in green and gold and pink. A shimmer that lands at my feet. slowly I reach down to pick up the teflon piece and read the numbers; 2014.
It's new years, there's snow billowing in and down through an open corridor is a fire. I stumble backwards and press my back against the wall. Where's the Seattle that I know? Is Grey/Sloan even out there anymore? What does any of that matter if this kid is right and people down here really want to sink their knives into my flesh. Ironic right? Given all the times I've opened a body cavity.
He begins playing his instrument again pretending I'm not here and that feeling suddenly returns. It's as though I'm not real. I'm simply floating in a world that exists without me but no because a hand wraps around my neck and I don't even have time to scream as I'm being dragged into the shadows but this time it's not a demon that has a hold of me. It's a person.
One I recognize.