Ghastly Green . . . . . Signs

It’s

twelve forty five, past midnight.

It’s late and

i with my

toxic thoughts

take a turn

around my brain.

I have questions about

nuclear waste,

purulent green,

producing

seething heat.

Seeping up from

the ground.

Seemingly something

beauteous and awful.

Drink not the green.

Stay away.

But,

what about

this spill?

What but

death?

 

The photo is from Pixaby.  Thank you Mish for the prompt: signs.  Gosh, it has been so long that I can barely remember how to work with format or anything else.  I also hope that I can remember how to publish at D’Verse.

Chapter and Verse … (prose-poem?)

Victoria Slotto’s wonderful challenge of “stream of consciousness writing” for Into The Bardo.

Chapter One
OK open Word.

Close the NYT.

It won’t be real if you are staring at the juxtaposition of a Ralph Lauren fashion movie and a stream of photos depicting Haitian poverty. God! What a mix, what incongruence on the front page today. What is this world coming to?

I know the real answer for myself. It is to get out and walk. I know it intellectually and I know it health-wise too.

Get up.

Get dressed.

Get going.

Can I really walk out this depression? No I cannot. I know how to handle depression – it is a family trait. Go by the water – preferably walk to it. What is bothering you?
Oh.

Get over it! Do something for someone else. It is a guaranteed winner each time. Still depressed? No.

Sorry. Ain’t gonna work.
Why? I have nothing in my life about which to be depressed. Period. I guess that I am being depressed for my husband. He too is depressive. However, he has something awful to be depressed about.

Chronic.

Nasty.

Dreadful pain!

He has been thoughtful in his pursuit of relief. It has been expensive and useless. I would do anything to help him. Anything at all.

I have prayed, uselessly I think.

Chapter Two
I could use some eggs, I have none. And what better than a fried egg sandwich while watching the World Series? I have bacon in the freezer.

Alright.

I just cut
out
a paragraph. It was really maudlin and self-serving, self interested and words that don’t really need to be written. I know the expressions, the words. They are as follows:

selfish

self-involved

self-centered.

They were B.S. We are what we write you know. I talked to David minutes ago. He is better today. I might add that this is the first day he has been able to say this in seven months. He had a third round
of
shots
yesterday.

Chapter Three
Man, did you see the Cards last night? Embarrassing, disgusting.
Bu-um-mer!
I really hope that tonight will be different. I need to think about dinner. Plan something nice.

OK,
That’s it!
All done feeling sorry for myself – time to get on with the day.

(the secret today came in David’s words about feeling better, his first in months! Therefore I am done here – yeah)! As I go back and edit, I do not really like this at all. But it is truthful and it is stream of consciousness. Maybe I don’t like it because it portrays me as so selfish. I don’t know. It is the lesson plan though.