March 10, 2008 - Monday
Purpose??
Here I sit, at 5am, with black coffee and a ciggarette that I'm not smoking. Nausea, headache, and a heart that won't stop trip-hammering. Despite all of this, I still feel more validated than ever before in my life. Allow me to set the stage:
Half past four, and I finally admit defeat. I give in to my Daemon named Sleep. I'm laying there, fitfully, and darkness is just about to take me. But at that final moment, I'm pulled back to reality by an odor, a scent. Nothing major, but faint and out of place. I bolt upright, trying to put a name to the vaguely familiar smell. Its neither a smoldering ciggarette butt, nor is it even a musty heat duct.
WHAT IS THAT?!?
My nose leads me through the main bedroom and into the kitchen, where it hits me like a truck. OZONE. Burning electronics. Not even a question at this point. Without a thought, I head to the fridge. In the darkness, I can already make out a slight glow from behind the ice box. I slam the fridge away from the wall, getting smacked with what turned out to be a bag of pretzels, for my efforts. I reach down, yank the cords, and see that the glow has gone; (and at the same moment I get a strong dose of the noxious fumes XD ) I flip on the lights to verify what I already suspect; no fire. Thanks be to whomever is awake and listening for THAT MUCH.
But now, the rank smell seems to be all around, almost clinging to me; (yeah, I KNOW I just got a good whiff, but still....) Straightaway, the security system goes off, fans go on, and doors and windows come open. And all the while, Gram sleeps on, dreaming, unknowing. ( MY judgement call. After all, what else CAN she do at this point BUT freak out?? Fix the compressor?? No.) The simple fact that she DOES sleep through all of this noise, light, and activity makes me appreciate all that much more that I WAS here. Had I not been....
NO. We won't even go there.
So yeah, thats my tale, short and sweet. No grand-standing or bragging.
Fate, Luck, Karma, call it what you will. I'm not into labels. Just once more this old punk was where he needed to be when he needed to be there.
Damn, excuse me now while I go get sick......
~aLee~
(transcribed from notebook)
The Street Punk Scholar Community Member 
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