til the doctor

I have so many memories. Which one do you want to hear? A chef at work was teaching me to cut fish and he said it was important to stay present in whatever you are doing. Including cutting fish. My joke on stage -- I will save for the stage. It requires an affect, a long a. Maybe a memory is not what you need right now. Maybe you need me to be present.

So here I am. Here. Obliterating myself into individual atoms that peel away upon themselves like onions. And so on and so forth. Tears. 

Maybe I just need to sweat. It's been a week since I last broke a good sweat. Maybe my dad needs to eat more so he doesn't look like a method actor. Maybe my mom needs to take 1mg instead of the five she was mistakenly prescribed by her free healthcare to keep from being dizzy. Maybe I need to stop using my parents as a cop-out.

I told myself I could drink beer all December. I told the audience. No. This isn't about making them laugh. This is about the present.

People get bored on stories without love. Tell a love story. No.

This is about the present. I'm listening to music. I'm patting myself on the back. I'm feeling awful. God, I'm getting better at making them laugh.

Trav was right about the palm trees at night. Damn, if only I could paint them. Still-black against a muted shade of telephonic gray. The moon-bulb in one tidy little section throwing about an evenly distributed party. All guests of light invited.

Also I'd be a millionaire by now if I'd given up that stand-alone courage I so admire in myself in exchange, for a wife. But then, I wouldn't have been present like I am now.