You still give me shivers

You want to tell me what, huh? Dangerous boy. We jump out of planes now. Be a difficult woman or a dangerous man, because this side of the island has gone deeply weird, and you don't have the shoe size.






I really had to wonder though, standing in line with a thirty-page waiver in hand, having neither ceiling nor border. Gross negligence should never be on the table. But then maybe I think like an auditor now--since strangely that is all that I am now, keeping tabs--but an auditor who has been thoroughly digested by a year so shitty, hyperbole blanches in conversation. Jump from where? Just point. Here are my initials, you can have them. A dozen high school kids doing the admin. Or maybe they are in their twenties? Another thing, another good reason to take some chances, I can't read ages anymore, things is getting muddled.




And I am in the grips of a withdrawal you wouldn't fucking believe. I want car crashes. I want knife fights. I haven't heard a scream in six months. I haven't seen a fullgrown man fall on his knees and cry in six months. I haven't seen the readable end of drunk-driving in six months. I haven't had a stranger throw her arms around my neck in six months, haven't heard stories about uncles or wives or grandfathers or any other stupid, depressing thing in six months. I haven't watched a skull open from the inside, or an eyeball swell up in its socket, or an old man rattle his bed coughing all night with emphysema, or an old woman push away her family and walk down the hall, finally, totally and for always alone in her little house somewhere. Six months. No more children crying because their Dad was struck retarded late at night. No more stupid, ugly, horrific bullshit, sleeping in stairwells, on windowsills, in lobbies, on benches, everything smelling like shit and piss and vomit, smiling, smiling, and smiling some more, slipping downstairs for a cigarette and a few minutes to emote without adding to the pile of it all, no more being that alone. Now I get golf, and corporate work, and conferences, and a new taste for wine, and weddings to attend, but my body likes to shake now. It doesn't like all this anymore. I have a nervous system like a pitbull in a very narrow room.

So I jump out of planes now. Already scheduled for next month. You have a better idea? Yes, and this opinion of yours is based on what?