He tries so hard to stick to the rules. Most of us step outside the realms of expectations and restrictions once in a while. I don’t think this guy ever does.
I thought of him this morning, for no obvious reason that I can backtrack into my mental strata. There is no stratum, is there, to document or record the passage of thought. Trees and other plants have these monuments of time but intellectual thought leaves no such evidence.
I wanted to explain my sandwich to him. I wasnted to demonstrate how I put an extra half piece of low sodium ham, to make the quantity of meats look more substantial, without significantly increasing said quantity. I could imagine his feigned interest, his interrogations and requests for explication. What about the cheese? Will there be salt or pepper? Do you eat this at lunch time or earlier?
All would be made clear by my thoughtful, slowly-considered responses, which elucidate and make incontrovertibly clear that this is a sandwich for all times, a sandwich to be analyzed and studied for generations, long after it has entered my body and exited in a miserable heap of shit. This is The Sandwich.
…
Just popped three panic pills and a BP med. Something on the subway had my head screaming today. A 6 local train on the 4/5 express track, inaudible announcements by the train conductor, whispers among all-knowing passengers that this train would go express to Grand Central but local after that. Why was the local on the express during rush hour? I don’t know but I exited that local and waited for an express, which moved very slowly, as seems common for express trains not jut in the MTA but in life, in the cosmos.
The 5 train moved slowly, as my head started screaming and the train stopped altogether. I wanted to masturbate but that’s still not proper decorum. I think it will be in a generation or two. Idle moments such as these will be acceptably whiled away by slipping dildos out of the bag and into the sweetness. Men like me will casually reach into our pants and harden the sex organ into a time-wasting toy.
This is done today, of course. But we look away. Or do we? It mostly goes unreported but public masturbation is in our discussion, in the vernacular of all times.
Unable to masturbate I put my phone into my bag and grasped a subway car metal pole with both hands, squeezing it tight but inflicting no pain or punishment. I thought of the stiffness as a substitute for what I had in mind but it was too cold and too narrow in girth. No substitute at all.
I knew I’d pop the pills as soon as I sat down at this desk. That is what I did. i didn’t do it on the train though I have done that in the past. Now I let my body madness settle itself, thanks to pharmaceuticals and a newfound freedom to take them more liberally and more frequently, now that I have an accommodating doctor who prescribes them by request. I still smart over that previous doctor in this realm of witholding drugs I am certain have saved my life in the past. He would tell me to spank myself. Tap my body all over, scare away anxiety and depression the Eastern way. Quack.
