To the detriment of being on my better behavior with young Lance and his charming efforts to get the untutored through Ulysses, I fell asleep Thursday in near winter bright afternoon reading what I actually wanted to read on the Paperwhite, scowling, The Sunlight Dialogues, really into it when Millie faced Taggart without quite realizing who the demonized little brother was, when I fell into a reverie due to the pain in my hip, right hip, still dislocated, and Steel did not butcher. All that physical suffering as a child so that I can entropy into more now. Dr. Chance and Steel controlled the destiny of many, if not Linda herself. The retarded spastics who might have been under my case management eye at one time, now my limited but happy neighbors, gave me the link, and I saw my future, this problem leg in a splint, while I lie in a bed, a discarded bit of meat, hoping my snotgreen cherry monoxide scarred lungs will prevent me from living long enough to get my jaws broken when I bite a future Debra Horne on the pork of her forearm. Gardner, being dead and dead quick, cannot help being an anachronism, whether or not he was taking a cue from Tarkington to deconstruct America through exposing the Hodge family, making Clumly evocative of a sterile old rooster who carried the mark of death through his white hairlessness. Never finished the novel in school, so I am not sure where he is going, dated and outlived by Wallace, who killed himself less quick, less neat, but with a more accurate tempo that Gardner suspected, but did not survive long enough to hate, media hype. Even if I wanted my trigger of pain to be my swan song, and I am not entirely positive about that although punished, yes, Linda too does not know when to quit, when to stop humiliating, and that because I built her up, trying to hang on to one last tie that actually mattered to me, because I was afraid of the collapse I am still living, even if I wanted to go outside of those boundaries to enact that punishment, and made an effort, I would not be able to make it count, to use it to expose the corruption and cruelty and through taking that action, strike at the conscience. I cannot direct a caustic intelligence to mesh with the reality of a broken and declining body to achieve the affect of the lone hero, the one who stands alone. I can no longer afford upgrades, need a new laptop battery, and either have to save this machine or format my newer, smaller, backup. If someone could explain for me, when installing new drivers, does the machine in DOS equate the ENTER key with SET UP? That is what I do not know how to do, hit the right button to get the updated drivers working. I will not bite, I just do not have the mind to handle mainframe and software degrade issues. It is an HP Pav dv6, roughly six years old, if anyone can explain this to me in simple, toddler, terms, you are one of the few who have my gratitude.
Very small meals, I have to stay up and go to Joes. The chair is nearly on full power, that achieved yesterday, barely enough clean clothes, if we look away from agony, ecstasy is no longer possible either, but if I am going down, I am going in flames, that much I know.
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