"Set in an experimental sci-fi comic book action adventure literary world-building project universe of multi-book series nested within other book series, 'The Zeppoverse' may be a bit disorienting to navigate at first... but you kind get used to it...
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Last night, sleep was not restful.
My real life has been exceptionally stressful, on many vectors and for some really hard reasons. I won't bore you with those details. What I will tell you is that in my dream last night,
I committed suicide.
I own, and rarely use, one of those doorway pull-up bar contraptions.
You know the kind of thing I mean? Tubular aluminum constructed frame that locks itself at the top of any standard width door frame, so you can use it to exercise with basic variations on the pull up. Surely you have seen on of the many infomercials for such contraptions?
At any rate-
I dreamed... (I swear that for most of my life I believed that the grammatically correct conjugation of 'dream' into past tense was 'dreamt'... apparently I have been wrong! Or at-least the spell-check on this contraption has never heard of that spelling variation)... In my dreams last night, I was having a nervous break down over my mundane real-life woes.
I was weeping hard, like a child who has lost his mother. Which is not so strange, as I have indeed lost my mother- to cancer, just 7 years ago.
I was weeping so hard I could not see clearly. I could hardly breath. I could not even grunt, or moan to vocalize my pain. My face the stereotypical trope- a silent scream.
I stood up, made my way to the closet in which sat this pull-up bar device, which I have not used in over two months for anything other than to hang wet towels on.
Setting it up in the closet without even being able to see it clearly, I then stumbled into the kitchen like a weeping robot, ambling awkwardly and bumping into things.
Without even thinking about what I was doing, I pulled two tall garbage bags from the pantry, and twisted them together along their length as I walked back to my room.
I had some trouble getting the bags anchored securely on the pull up bar... mostly because the tears were now streaming so strongly that everything was just a blurry smudge of near indistinguishable shape and shadow. Once the anchor point was solid, I quickly tied the loose end around my neck in a poor excuse of a noose.
Without even a pause to say good bye to the world or utter a prayer to what ever divinity I ought to ask forgiveness to, I let my knees buckle and my body weight crush my windpipe against the loop of plastic I had fashioned around my neck.
It didn't take long... My body twitched and jerked in reaction to the mortal threat, but I refused to allow myself to stand up. It would have been so easy to just stand up.... like an adult who can't swim and is drowning in a kiddy pool... I just didn't put my feet on the floor and lift myself up into survival.
