Whenever I get sick to my stomach I also hallucinate. Today, after a particularly violent spell of regurgitation…sorry…I passed out on the couch. (Having to go up and down a spiral staircase when you’re already nauseated is a cruel joke.)

The tv came on by itself…then there was someone playing mario on it…then the house phone we don’t have rang and the answering machine that isn’t there answered and I listened to see if they’d added my name to the list of people you might have been wanting to contact.
Half awake half asleep, the door finally opened, this time for real. It was just my roommate Bonnie. I politely waited for her to leave before I resumed the position kneeling in front of the toilet.

I’m reading this book. This is a quote I like from it. “where are we headed? ‘I don’t know’ he said. ‘What do you mean? You know the past and future of things. You know exactly where we’re going.’ He sighed, ‘Yeah. But I try not to think about it.'”

I like the idea that the way God handles knowing the end from the beginning is just not thinking about it. I feel like I do that somehow. Avoid acknowledging what I know is true as it i could surprise myself.

I bought the book at a Goodwill for a quarter. I like buying used books, especially if someone has marked it up or written in it. Last night I found this inscribed on the opposite side of the title page:

“Dearest Pam
Welcome home,
within this book lies my truth-our truth
if you choose it to be.
We can and will become the dreams
we dream.
Remember my message with the orange?
Me 96

If each life is but a moment it wasn’t long ago,
though the wood has turned to concrete
still the magick flows
and in the end it’s true – all things they do return
life a cosmic spiral, we climb, we fall, we learn. (welcome home)”

I wonder who is Pam? Who is me 96? Where was she coming home from? India? The Hospital? What was his (or her I guess) message with the orange?

In the preface the author writes about his belief in fate. He says, “we magnetize into our lives whatever we hold in our thought, for instance–if that is true, then somehow I have brought myself to this moment for a reason, and so have you. [Me 96 underlined that]; perhaps there’s something about these adventures that you came here to remember. I choose to think so.”

You can choose to think or you can choose to not think. I can choose my truth, or just avoid thinking about it. In fact, right now I’m choosing not to apply this practically to my life in anyway, letting it skim the surface of my interest without actually ingesting it.
I’m just too sick to my stomach to consume it. Too nauseated to move up the cosmic spiral staircase, if you will.
I’m just making a mental note to think about this later. After my brother brings me some gatorade and I’m not dehydrated anymore.


One thought on “sick.

  1. Bonnie

    Hey marla! its your roomy bonnie kaye varga…so i got this book at the D.I. and inside the front cover in fairly juvenile hand writing it read:May 1983Rachel,Here’s a humorous book for a kid with a great sense of humor.I’ll love you always as I do today (but probably I’ll love you even more as the years go by.)Love, A.J.and…well it makes me pretty sad that Rachel gave it to the D.I 25 years later….thats all 🙂


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