immediately released to the er

andy pink, gabletown, indiana —

rolling dice from — park place to boardwalk to go directly to jail to free parking to thimble to top hat to community chest to chance to st james place to bank error in your favor —

i met with my team of doctors at st e’s and it has been decided that i will be put on a low dose (75 mg) of wellbutrin immediate release, perhaps moving up to 150 extended release soon. the doctor said that i should notice a difference in 24 hours, yet the pharmacist said that it would take 3-4 weeks to rearrange my systems, a go, so i am inclined to believe the pharmacist over the md (who i naturally would have very little faith in). as anyone who has followed my words would know, i have dipped rather low, in fact, and though i clearly have been on the high end, as well, since the blog careened off course and became a mirror reflection of james, i should say that, herpes free but not without bits and bobs of what is sometimes referred to as “genital leprosy” — i should say, leave behind your medieval quarantines and join civilization for the second time, if you believe in fairies, which is simply to implore: clap yours hands, yours. i am concerned that the wellbutrin will send me flying — i was on it 7 or so years ago, and i realize 75 is a wicked tiny dose — but still, i think the mania is potentially worse now, in my 60s, and so i am wary of the return of the highs, the middles of the lows, and all night take out with james and co. we shall watch the aura, for second. at least they haven’t taken away my medicare! another reason: donald trump or bernie sanders, 2016.

i wish i could better narrate the trevor kingdom, or at least phylum or species, i should start at the origin of his species, except the relationship is weirdly episodic, such as these types are, and i perhaps should begin at the end:

trevor died what might be termed an “unexpected” death, it was not unimagined by the mourners, but we all thought of it as a matter for later. he did end up marrying his girlfriend, though he put off, deferred, an engagement for quite some time, leading to queries about a certain queerness, or rather innocent strangeness, about their affair, as if her suicide attempt — if not note — were simply a response to the queerness of togetherness, they. but — i will flash forward — after a wedding, several children (to her i hope she were barren, not because she isn’t a fine lady, which i suppose she is, but because she is my natural obstacle and not a “genius,” as she once used such words to court her then-future husband, trevor; not incidentally, i am by quite a margin smarter than both of them) — the point: he was killed in an unfortunate bicycle-car accident. in some ways worse than her death by suicide — also yet to transpire — but obviously before my death, as hiv treatment has really picked up since they found a glucose level blood test for cancer. such is! to begin at the end, at his death, is to point out the obvious: the pain was queerly not worth it at all, redundant, irrelevant, moot, mistaken, folded, accidental — a queer sentiment of a bereft loss, mourned but still visible, right here and there, email and telephone, lost to times: a simple bicycle accident. it was about time, america, for her to clean up her act. as such, she was the surviving widow. to name her — america — is simply to acknowledge her mistakes, careening off the highway of treaties and regulations and laws — such is, america: her final suicide, with note, c-note, yet to come.

in the middle of now and then: a series of scuffles and triangles, cut toast to the side, and the good times in memoriam which can only really be enjoyed about a week and a half after his death.

my death was by suicide, an ordinary hanging, such as my father chose at his moment of theatrics. in the end, you would hope more imagination for such a dramatic exit, final act, parting words, such as: “it jumped the shark when they made it into a tv movie.” how, my reader, do you know that i am speaking of the antecedent tv show and not the antecedent (also) best-selling book from harper perennial? you don’t know, and for this: pipe down, elders, not of zion, mind you, but of grace; christianity is a religion of love, it is no doubt that judaism is a religion of law; were love to triumph — no need for law, judaism would wither from the torah, fall to its knees at moses’s soiled robe, and leave the arabs to a one-state arab solution.

at this point, tomorrow at 9:30AM, the psychiatrist can only inquire: “did you climb into the coffin with him, stroke back his hair, carefully sink your teeth, bite off the tips of his ears, cop a feel, will it have grown, i wonder, even me, and then, i will break off from my pomposity now” —

james can only respond: “only if she is there too.”

to which the psychiatrist can only rejoin: “pourquoi?”

to which i can only say, by way of james: “i want us all to witness my suffering.”

to which i can only say: “is there increased co-pay for twice a week?”

to which the psychiatrist can only mumble: “whatever, dude, whatever.”

one of the mysteries of this star is: why don’t all scenes end with a money-shot?

such is: psychiatrist jerks off. he either cums or does not cum. none of us care, good doctor, none of us really care.

[end.]

trevor was always a doll, not a brooding pill in his mind, not a bad will in his heart, perfectly innocent and caring, without love or vulnerability, he knew only ego. i was always the unconscious. she was preconscious at times, not for him, and she plays the roles of id and superego which, my friends, are the same agency even as they battle against each other in the tumult which is: the ego’s executive function to structure and organize. such is trevor, ego and organization, his book and chapters, a writing that does not tell the truth but wants to be heard, quietly, without rustling the final lines of a poorly written suicide note. sometimes i wonder if trevor flipped the bicycle by accident, or when by the time such a death occurred, his handle-bars could only be controlled by a gps, hers in the driver’s seat. i will forever be bitter. she is fine a lady as they go, sub-par petty-tricks, and certainly one who has suffered. but would it be fair of me to renunciate a will whose internalization is conditioned by the obstacle? what good is an internalized will but bipolar 1 with psychotic features?

what happens in topeka stays in topeka. [pause.] i wish i had fonder memories of monopoly — the game — rather than monopoly — the economic system. such is!

when you are a board game all that you can recite are the words on the board, the words on the cards, and various described pieces. when you are a human all that you can recite is memories from the future. this is the reason i will always look back: to escape my humanity.

i should say — wellbutrin is cheering me up!

dave is coming by now, to work on the illustrations for my book. he has mastered the “code,” as he likes to say, complete with equations and paraphernalia. what will banon think of my success next year? yet another symptom? — or something more, for her to make less?

hi. my name is james.

yesterday’s debacle from the night before was simply an acknowledgment that: i am an hispanic chronic masturbator. but with charm!

love andy