Today I’ve come to the conclusion I am not suicidal.
After several weeks of fantasizing, this realization hit me like a wet sack of dirty laundry. You see, over the course of three years my interest in the development of modern civilization has taken a fecal dump as my piss of an existence moves forward. My small contribution to said civilization has led me to wake shivering in a mostly empty storage room. I am covered in three layers of dirty damp clothes I use as makeshift covers. Professionally soiled by yours truly.
My old friend Lukas let’s me sleep here in exchange for some work. Lukas knew me from the good ol’ days. When I was a bit more adjusted. I think he keeps me around out of sentiment. Lukas owns a ceramic figure business. It makes very little to no money.
Lukas used to take his mother a ceramic clown every year on her birthday since he was eighteen. It would always make her smile. In fact, it became one of the only things she looked forward to all year long. She wrote this to him along with a pretty nice inheritance check after she passed.
He used it all to fund the ceramic figure biz. Coincidence would have it, the stupid clowns seem to be the only figures paying the bills. I sculpted those stupid clowns. I’m pretty damn good at it, if I do say so myself. I can relate to the humility. I guess that’s’ why people like them. Maybe they enjoy the humility of others… Or maybe I’m thinking too damn much in this dingy storage room.
I tried sculpting other figures. Animals, children, trolls. No one gave a shit about any of them. Just the clowns. When I’m not sculpting I help around the shop. Sweeping, cleaning molds, the works. I take breaks sometimes and think about how I’d off myself. I seem to get the most creative on breaks. Who would care? Lukas? The two other helpers I speak broken english to? The rats and roaches I sleep with? Nah! I think they’ll all be fine without me. One less lump to worry about. Been thinking a lot about it these days… Or is it weeks now?
Well, all those thoughts got punched in the mouth this morning. See, one of the rules of me sleeping in the storage room is I gotta stay clean. I know what your thinking, but your wrong. I’m not a doper. I just stink sometimes.
Aside from throwing out the garbage, I don’t see the sun much. Or breathe that fresh air everyone is always going on about. I just stay in the shop.
If the helpers complain to Lukas, that means I’ve become a more ripe than I realize. Those guys sometimes piss in bottles to keep from asking Lukas for a break! They’re good guys don’t get me wrong. Lukas isn’t a shitty boss or anything like that. They just have a fear of losing their jobs for bugging too much. Probably happened to them before. If they’re willing to tell Lukas about my stink, it’s gotta be pretty bad. I do my best to stay on top of it with deodorants and what not, but this place isn’t rigged for everyday living you know?
Lukas has a hose out back in the alley. Ever take a hose shower? It’s a lot more complicated then it sounds. That is, if you want the real clean, as opposed to the sloppy ball wash. So, alley hose showers is what I have from time to time. Naked alley showers. This operation cannot be done in the day. No sir, you might end up with a white coat and some jail time.
No, this is strictly a night job. It’s cold. Lucky for me it usually California cold. A guy could catch death in other parts of the country attempting such a feat. Well, last night was that night. Homage was to be paid to the alley shower gods. Unfortunately it was one of those rare nipple twisting 35 degree nights. Since the stink earned a complaint from the piss bottle brothers, this had to go down last night. I was pissed to say the very least.
Let me ask you one more time. Ever take a hose shower?
More specifically, ever take a hose shower fully nude in a dark alley during 35 degree weather?! It can be very difficult to endure. As a consequence to this dirty deed I have created a process.
This is the process:
1) I first begin with a mental warm-up/coaching. This begins with a powerful look of conviction. I face the fact, this horribly uncomfortable act will be committed. I need to prepare for pain, however I must remind myself I WILL survive. Not to mention a little less stinky too. What I like to call “mumble face” visually occurs during this process.
2) The second warm-up is a physical one. Literally, calisthenics are key. I usually do about 100 jumping jacks, 70 sit ups and 50 push ups to create an illusion of warmth before the big plunge.
In this process I forgot I had no towel. I was forced to use my dirty clothes to dry off. Also forgetting I haven’t had a real blanket in a few months. Just been using laundry to keep warm.
After knowing these terrible struggles you may be asking, how could I possibly come to this new pro life epiphany? I just now realized, anyone who would go through all that shit to have a place to sleep and not be offensive with odors must care to a certain extent for their well being right?! What does this mean? Where do I go from here?
I haven’t a God damn clue.