Her friend Sunny on the left.
Her name is Tisa, a nurse so irresistible she'd turn Liberace straight. She's every male's living fantasy: good looking, aggressive, bold. Everybody wants her.
And the only way I can meet someone like her is by lying in this hospital bed.
Don't get me wrong, she is a passionate and dedicated nurse, serious about her work. But having a purpose to her life is just one more thing that separates us.
Yet she's not all I'm thinking about with this godawful downtime to muse on the sum total of idiocy in my life. I'm thinking about how I got here in the first place.
I got knifed.
Some lunatic, like a wild animal with an impacted tooth, sliced me and three others on Akard street. I heard the commotion coming but stubbornly refused to move.
I'm so fucking tired of having to react to every damn shit event in this world. But being tired of shit doesn't make you exempt from its consequences.
I don't even know if the cops captured the maniac.
But this is my life stranded on the streets. This is what I'm subject to. No wonder so many worlders want to hide behind security gates.
She sees every life as important and valuable. She will suffer no protest on that score.
At the point in my life where I most want to die she ignites a desire to live - a dangerous thing for the emotionally imprisoned.
She doesn't see my shame, only my potential. She knows not of my legendary negativity and lost opportunities, only my inherent worth.
What version of me could ever be with her?
Maybe I was meant to meet her just so I can realize how over my life is: doomed to die alone in the streets.
False hope is something I use to muddle through the day even as it perpetuates my misery. I sabotage all chances, so what difference does it make?
The room is dark. I scribble by the light of my phone. Shadows pass by in the gap beneath the hallway door. I hear alien voices and laughter; no place for me.
Can I go now?
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