The Enema

Enema

Being lost in time and space never is how you expect it to be. Just last June, before my loss and tragedy you are tired of hearing about, I was going nowhere except somewhere where everywhere is looped and linked. My body was unclean and I got what I deserved. No really, I should have showered more. But others did not and I have to live with it for what seems like it will be eternity. Just memories forever encased in my brain which I guess is better than none. It's Almostly certainly like a time capsule that will never be left closed. So, as I trudge inside of what is believed to be my dead daughters rectal cavity, I can't help but to keep follow those "voices" calling out to me. Is this a good idea? Who knows? Well, hopefully I'm not making the countless cliché mistakes as one makes in horror flicks. This seems more deeper than anything that could be represented in a movie though. The wonderful array of colors and patterns. The fiberglass infested air that's been slicing the plush lining of my lungs. The rancid taste of a rotten forbidden fruit. Nothing makes sense, but everything seems better than ever. I've craved this kind of excitement since my days as an orphan. Those days witnessing and experiencing child trafficking accompanied by a thirst so unreal. Cracked lips and a tongue that mimicked sandpaper. I've been dealt very dumb cards all of my life. I'm proud of myself for being a boss in a life that is already like hell. Maybe I've finally made it to heaven.