Noise

Today’s just been one of those days, oh, it started with a noise. Or maybe that was yesterday. I’ve been drifting a while, in and out of this hazy half-sleep, except those few hours that were noisy. Noisy and bright.

I woke up, and it must’ve been around noon, and this fucking thing kept beeping at me. Every two minutes, it went off: Beeeeeep! Low battery warning. Beeeeeep! I couldn’t find it at first, then I found it, and I couldn’t reach it. Even with the wee ladder Mother left, I couldn’t reach.

I rang the concierge and he went to the wrong flat, and it beeped the whole time, and my head was splitting. So I rang again, and he came to my flat, and he said “yeah. You gotta replace the battery.”

I pointed at this thing hanging nine feet above us, like how?

I mean, I guess I could’ve stood on my wheelchair, or used some kind of…reaching device…but he found a battery and a ladder, and it’s fine now.

Jesus fuck, random guy in the doorway! You CANNOT piss on the floor, film yourself pissing on the floor, then walk away like you didn’t piss on the floor.

(I mean, obviously you can. You just did. But you shouldn’t.)

Is that how they do piss porn? Just, like…walk up and piss on things, and bring a camera? Like gonzo peeing?

Sorry. That was distracting. It took me a moment, you know? I wasn’t sure what he was doing. I wasn’t positive. He was doing that urinal pose, face to the wall, one hand down the front, the other—well, normally, it’d be on his hip or hanging at his side, but this time, he was filming—but I wasn’t sure till I saw the puddle. And then I had to comment, because I’d invested nearly a minute of my day…man, that’s nasty. It’s streaming down the…the…it’s in the pavement cracks. It’s going in the grass. That’ll smell for ages. It’ll dry up and still smell. It almost smells worse when it’s dried.

Everyone’s walking by like they don’t even see it.

On another note, I just got that new Rammstein album, the one everyone’s talking about. I don’t speak German, but my Swedish is okay. I can mostly follow along, except when I can’t, and “Puppe” becomes exponentially more disturbing when you think “puppe” means “dog.” Fucking false cognates, man.

This has either been one long-ass day or two days that ran into one.

I’m so tired.

I don’t feel well.

At least that beeping’s gone.

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