I have not written anything (big) the last two days. That’s because I have been drinking the last two days. Today I’m re-composing myself. But I don’t worry about me spending all my money on beer and good company.
I have good karma in abundance. For instance, at six am this morning when I was waltzing home good and drunk, singing Tom Waits and Roger Whittaker, I saved a white cat from drowning. Not per se, since it wasn’t actually in the water, but it somehow had got itself trapped in a canoe. I know the junkies use these canoes for their unknown, mysterious purpouses.
This place is usually pretty scary. If you feel good about being alive, you wouldn’t go there. This is the kind of place a blade in the dark would fit perfectly to the scene. I once was down there to check out the market rates, and I quickly realized I was too fond of being alive to hang around any longer.
But this morning was so bright you could see all the corners, and there was no one around. So I jumped down on the boards by the canoes.
I sat down and estimated the chances of me falling into the water in this self-less act of rescue. It was about 80%, I gathered, being drunk and all. I didn’t want to do that. There’s no telling where that river has been.
But the cat was calling for help. I looked around to see if there were any junkies in the water. Luckily, there were none, or else I’d probably have to reassess the situation and my manpower. I had a little chat with the cat, ’cause I was not going into that boat, and after a little while it felt confident enough to say hello. I grabbed it and took it with me to the street.
Thank God it ran away, or I’d probably have taken it home and fed it.
Also, it once happened that I woke up and was dead.
I thought "Shit, I’m dead, this must be a dream!"
And it was.