Cincinnati and what-not
So, I thought I’d write lots about my trip to Cincinnati, I thought I’d write everything, but I just don’t have the desire. I feel more like writing the Reader’s Digest version.
I went to have my trach looked at by the foremost airway specialist in America, Doctor Robin Cotton. He personally looked down the hole in my throat, changed my trach out twice. He decided my trach tube should be 5 mm. shorter. So, we’ll see how that goes.
I did a lot of wandering around the city, and it’s actually a very cool place, I just wasn’t in good spirits, because of some things that I don’t plan to write, probably ever. I got a tattoo my first night in town, sort of a physical reflection of my intense melancholy. It felt necessary.
In the hospital, I mostly spent three days watching movies, as my left eye was swollen shut because of a weird sinus thing, so I couldn’t wear my glasses. I’m a little blind without my glasses. Mostly, I was lonely. I thought I was past lonely, but before I left I became not-soo-certain.
Anyways, I’m bored, this is boring, and I don’t have the will to make it interesting.
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Leaving Macon, Georgia
So, I didn’t write anything from Cincinnati… I’ll explain further, but the short version is that my left eye swelled shut, so I couldn’t wear my glasses most of the week. I didn’t get to finish reading The Bluest Eye, or The Red Tree, and I definitely couldn’t write anything. I’ll elaborate soon.
Anywho, right now, I’m leaving Macon, Georgia, en route to Tampa.
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On the road… to Cincinnati…
So, right now, I’m at a La Quinta in Lexington, Kentucky, but only for another hour or two. It’s only about one hundred miles to Cincinnati, then I’m off the road. It’ll be good to get off the road, too much time for quiet reflection in a vehicle speeding toward somewhere I’m already nervous about going hasn’t been good for me. I’ve convinced myself into some pretty awful things, like, “You’ll never be anything more than you are right now, and you’re going to die a lonely failure.” I don’t always do so well alone with myself, I’m not particularly good company.
Last week was really weird, the morning I took to the road was exceptionally bad, and I’ve had too much time alone to think about all of it. I suppose I could write about the weird, but the bad I’ll just keep to myself. It’s weird when someone explains that they can no longer be your friend because you’re just too dark, they just can’t stand you anymore. That’s weird, and pretty unsettling. Maybe they’re right, that’s what I keep thinking. Maybe I just need to quit people, because I’m just too damaged. I mean, I could just pretend to be someone else, but that’s the same as being alone, except with a lot of work, constantly writing and being some character who isn’t you. I’m only genuinely close to one person, but maybe I shouldn’t be. I know she deserves way better than me. Maybe I just don’t have a home, anywhere with anyone. I hope not, but I’m almost thirty and that’s what scares me just now, that’s what’s scared me every day since I left Tampa.
I’ll write again from Cincinnati, but I doubt I’ll have figured anything out by then.
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Cincinnati
So, in about an hour, I’ll be on the road to Cincinnati to see a trach specialist. I’ll be back online regularly, probably Monday.
I feel like I should write something important right now, but…this big ball of sad isn’t worth even filling with air…
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