01-25-10 – In The Hospital
She says I am wasting my time. They cannot be trained. They do not remember. They are not alive.
I know. I do.
Still, I like the way their glassy eyes follow me as I make coffee and climb the walls, waiting for your call. I put my hand on the soft pillows of their decayed muscles and slack, pink faces slicked with crumb-dappled drool. The smell is horrible and the conversations yield absolutely nothing I can use to gain my freedom. I asked Triad Blender what he thinks of the War.
“There’s a war?” he askes, “Am I in it now?” Triad eats only compressed worms and he evacuates his butt-tube into a metal funnel next to his bed.  I refuse to help him even though when he’s awake he gives me money to help him do just that. What do I care?
I stick my tongue into the translation place. “Yes, Triad. There is a War. A big one, in fact and we are winning the war. Does this not excite you?”
Triad Blender dies, tragically debulking. This happen years into the future but I am not around to see it – I have gone elsewhere. Â I don’t know what Triad thinks but I am glad we are winning the war.
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