Wednesday, May 06, 2009

The Big Three O

March 23, 2009 1:18 AM

The voice was the same. Neither inflection nor emotion of any kind. Not cold but a bit detached. “You'll be 30 in a few months. It's coming, you know. The end. What will you do?” Not taunting nor mocking but definitely interested. I hung up when she ran out of questions on the POA to combat my impending doom. This had been happening for a while now. More than a year in fact.

I don't really know. I never thought to question it and even now, this constant talk of my impending demise on reaching the age of 30 doesn't seem like enough reason to ignore. Women can be dangerous in my experience and also harbingers of doom but seldom have I viewed their lot as prophets of destruction.

I went about my life. Generally peaceful, mostly happy. The calls still came. In their own random regularity. I'd ramble about this and that and then she'd talk to me about the end. The Big Three O she called it.

“What are you going to do? It'll all end no?”

May 5, 2009 11:17 AM

I had that dream again last night. I'm stuck, knee deep in thick black ooze and I can't move. For some reason my upper body is as stuck as my legs are. I can't even wave my arms around. The swamp seems to want me. To not let me go. I close my eyes and tell myself I'm dreaming. I pinch myself; I slap myself across the face. I show no mercy, I’m still stuck here. I know this is a dream but I cannot wake up. The trees around me are moving in, closer and closer. The swap gets thicker and I can feel the ooze slipping and sliding between my toes. It is a living breathing swamp...

Feels that way at any rate. It was only the phone call that woke me up. No pre-amble, no polite conversation. "6 months to go GK. What are you going to do? It'll all end no?"

I was thankful for the phone call. It meant an end to the dream. It meant another day of working with 4 hours of sleep to back me up but it was better than sleeping to dream that dream again. It makes my skin crawl and my heart beat slower. I have come to dread the thought of sleep thanks to that fucking dream, the ooze that curls around my legs like a snake and the swamp that threatens to swallow me into its sludge. The dream started on the night of my last entry here Dear Diary. Complete in its form, like it simply dropped into my mind and now has nowhere else to go. I sleep, I'm stuck in the swamp and then the phone call rescues me. Every night, without fail. I know I should just wait for the phone call to escape the swamp but I can't wait that long. It's almost like she knows where I am. It's almost like she's waiting for me to start quivering and whimpering before she deigns to rescue me. I know that's rubbish and it's probably just a coincidence but every day for the last 44 days doesn't really seem like a coincidence. It feels like a plan.

I'm unable to come up with the answers to my life anymore. There used to be a time when I knew all the answers. When GK had simple solutions to complex questions. Today, I don't even know the questions. It's like this dream and that fucking phone call are turning my life upside down but I'm not sure which way is up and which way is down. Sideways? Don't even get me started on sideways. My mom says I have no direction and for once I'm inclined to agree.