Franklyn & Me

FUCK.

I did it again.

Another few days with no writing. Writing in pitch sobriety is hard. I get a few sentences in, and then my mind goes blank.

So I guess this is a journal entry for tonight.

I've been thinking a lot about the concert experiences since Josh and Scott came over last Friday. They reminded me of a Skinless show that we went to a while back. Probably five or six years ago. After a few songs, the singer split the entire crowd down the middle, and made each side get as close to the wall as possible. Then, when they started playing 'Intestine Tug-O-War', he made everyone rush each other, turning the entire concert into a mosh pit.

That was a good one. I forgot about that.

I am going to stop smoking on Thursday. Going to buy a vapor stick so I can ween myself off the nicotine, and save myself a bunch of money while doing so.

Cierra is helping me. I know how I work. I know my weaknesses. I need someone who will kick my ass a little bit, its the only way that will work. And she is. Which is awesome to have a friend who cares enough to do that. None of my other friends care that much. And she's helping me budget. Chaos is too central a part of my life, I definitely need help in doing this. I've failed pretty bad so far.

Budgeting. Spacing out the drinking. Maybe. Probably. Smoking pot, definitely. Maybe shrooms a few times. Or at least once more, to see if they're still trying to turn my body against me. I'm saving up to pay for my oral surgery, then glasses, then a truck, then comic-con San Diego, then moving to Seattle. That’s my plan for the next year.

A fly flew into my room, and he's been circling me for the last two hours. I don't stink, so I think I have a new pet.

I shall call him Franklyn.

Franklyn, boy, am I glad that you're here.

Everyone else is asleep, and not a creature is stirring, except for the hellbeasts I hear screaming out my window.

So, needless to say, your company is much appreciated.

You know, Franklyn, if this was a year ago, I would call this one of 'those' nights.

But its not, and I have you! If only for a few hours, or days. I know the terrible tales of the lifespan of your people. How much can you really live in a few days? Why did you choose to spend a major part of your life with me? Circling me.

Are you trying to tell me something?

Are you trying to show me a metaphor for my life on this night of dark eves?

Telling me that no matter what I could be going through, you will be dead in a few days, while I will outlive you and your great-great-great-great-great-great-grandchildrens childrens children? That I should embrace this night for what it is? To scrape some resin and kick my anxiety in the skull with steel toed boots?

I thought it might be.

I like you, Franklyn. You're not like the others. You dont judge. I can see it in your eyes. I imagine I would be able to, if you would hold still long enough for me to take a picture of you.

You're not going to be here forever, Franklyn, and I need to remember you.

But still, you fly around in circles. Were you in the room before, and then I did soemthing that caused you to start flying in circles? Did I play music you didnt like? Did I turn off something you were watching?

Either way; you're here now. And thats what matters.

You've stopped circling me. Now you're just staring at me from my monitor. Compound eyes full of pity, no doubt. Here I am. In the prime of my life. Sitting here. Anti-moping. Talking to you.

You've got it all figured out, don't you?

Well, enlighten me, Franklyn. I'm listening.

Don't just stare at me through your four thousand ommatidia. Please, tell me. You must see me in every way possible, so of all things in my life, you should know something.

Ah. I see. My questions put you on the spot. I didn't mean to be confrontational. I truly want your insight. I have no idea what you can see, and I dont want the internet to spoil it by looking it up. Its more romantic this way. I wonder if you can see me like I see me. Thats not supposed to be deep, Franklyn, continue your orbit. I mean, physically. Do you see me as a large fleshy human? Do you see me as a variety of heat signatures? Aural patterns? Can you see through me down to the sickness in my heart and stomach?

Is that the price for having a 72 hour lifespan?

I guess its not all that bad. Maybe you have a limited omniscience. And you still get to do what pretty much every living thing agrees are the best things to do; eat, fuck and defecate.

There are thousands of flies, who is to say that the flies dont shape what we see? Who says the flies and the spiders and the bugs, with their god vision, dont help shape the world around us as we see and feel it? The ecosystem would collapse if there werent any insects, but what would happen to reality?

Quit staring at me, Franklyn. I am not avoiding the point.

I don't know whats wrong with me today. OK, well, maybe I do.

Fine.

I have that feeling of dread. Like I know something bad is going to happen soon. Like the anxiety attack last night, and then Jessica telling me we shouldn't talk on Spark anymore, because anything not work related will get us in trouble. But that's fine with me, I don't even really like my job. I hate talking about it when I'm not there; and you're right, Franklyn, I should move on. Get to the real point.

How did you get so wise? Is this your third and final day in this world? Are you spending your twilight years with me? Making sure I don't make the same mistakes that you did, in middle age and child hood, all those hours ago? Or will you simply evolve beyond your body to exist in one of the many dimensions outside of the grasp of the human mind?

I appreciate it, Franklyn, but it brings no comfort.

Something just doesnt feel.. right.

No, I don't know what it is. But its making me uneasy. I wish I had a bowl, I can calm the feelings I get, block them out or forget them at least. Is this was birds feel before a volcano erupts? What a dog feels when there's a ghost around? Or excess of energy?

You don't know. You're just flying around now.

What do you mean I'm worried about her? She'll be strong. I don't think you even know how strong. I don't know if she knows either, but I know there's no reason to worry. I'm not sure what a hollow night is, though.

Thank you, Franklyn. Your feet tickle, but I appreciate the hug. I'm afraid you cant sit on my shoulder. I know you'll understand. It's nothing personal, but I don't want you to shit on me. You'll miss flying around in a bit, anyway.

See, you're already off on your track. What is that, the thousandth lap? What, are you going for some gold medal? Is that all I am? Just an Olympic event to you?

I didn't mean that. I know you're trying to help. And I enjoy our time together.

Perhaps I should not have smoked that prehistoric resin. My anxiety is gone, but now my stomach does not seem to be very happy with me. The serpent in my bowels just keeps going back and forth, like hes hunting. Waiting.

I think he wants to sleep as well. But I'm not tired. I'm kind of hungry, though. Or I might be bored. Shit. I hate when I cant tell the difference, it ruins my diet.

What about you, Franklyn? What do you think I should do?

If I go to bed now, I'm liable to be up at five AM again. But I supposed I can lay in bed and watch a horror movie. Get some escapism in for a bit. Maybe a nice apocalypse? Zombies tonight? Its been a while since I fell asleep watching the zombie apocalypse. No? The Thing, then? Prince of Darkness?

What? What would please you, Franklyn? The doors and window has been open all night, so you must be staying here for a reason.

Well, since I cant connect to your hive mind, especially after resin, I guess you'll just have to deal with watching what I want to watch.

I'm trying to please, you. If you're going to be here while I sleep, I at least want protection from whatever it is that wakes me up and cuts me in the middle of the night. I know this one scratch is from me being drunk, but I have no idea where these others came from.

Do me a solid, wont you Franklyn?