A true bummer

You see, I thought this would be cool.

I thought it would be fun, you know, try being hurt for a few weeks. Nah, actually, being hurt sucks. Not depressingly so, especially if functionality is maintained as well as mine was over the past couple weeks with my hand cast. Nonetheless, I wish I had had two hands these past two weeks.

It's causing me to get behind, slow down, curl up, close books and ask others to open doors for me.

All the while I get to beat shit with my left hand. All in all, a little disappointing in terms of the trade off.

It's late, I'm tired, I'm swamped, I'm anxious, I'm crammed, I'm worried, I'm thinking, I'm blanking, I'm typing, I'm typing two-handed, I'm getting to the point where I can be normal again, I'm normal again, no I'm not, I'm limited, I'm far off, I'm far out, I'm concerned, I'm carefree, I'm busy, I'm doing nothing, I'm behind, I'm okay, I'm lucky, I'm screwed, I'm blowing it, I'm doing it, I'm trying, I'm failing, I'm failing, I'm failing, I'm fine.


I'll be okay.

I'm just disappointed, that's all. I wanted time for you. I missed you. I've wanted to say something. Other than I've wanted to say something. Yet, I'm here. I'm here. I'm only merely just barely here. I can't make it further. I could, but I can't. I can, but I won't. I will, but not now.

I've got ground to make up. I'm tired, but I'll get there. I need a few weekends. I need a few hours. I need a few minutes to collect myself and correct myself. I can get this right. I need a do-over. I don't need anything. I need to calm down.

I need to go longer, I need to go deeper, I need to go more worthwhile. I need to become wholesome.

I feel fragile. I've cast a wide net, and I feel like it's not very strong. I need to mend it, to strengthen it.

And pounding in my head is the burning desire to play video games.
And to work out.
And to play music.
And to play catch.
And to get going.
And to get to bed.

But I don't have time for any of that.

I don't have any time anymore.

I don't want your time. I don't deserve your time. I've had your time, I'm sorry. I wish I could give it back. I wish this wasn't about I. I believe you understand why it's about I because I don't have time for it to be about anything else.

I can't sell you on me. My mind, it's its own thing. You shouldn't need to worry. You don't need to be bored with this. But you need to be given something. This is all I have. Time for. I can't help the fact that I couldn't help the fact that I was lazy; lazy and handicapped. I was under the influence of the cast. The cast held me down. The cast held me up. The cast held me still for a lot less time than casts have held people still. Yet nothing else stood still. Everything flew by. Everything is in front of me, I need to catch up.

And, oh yeah, this finger smells terrible.

Anyway, back to the music.

--Eliot Sill