NormBeggar's Belief (2005)
The events of their lives were as dominoes set in place before birth and set in motion with birth. Anything else has no leg to stand on. A thought does not constitute a domino and I lay claim to a lot of these non-items. In this respect I own a lot of bones.
I find it hard to walk these days so withered and weak are my legs, even getting out of bed is a real chore and the lavatory: forget about it. The crutches really are of no assistance, although it’s fair to say I have used them or at least one of them. Getting the best use out a crutch is an art form I’ve down pat. The rubber on the bottom wears out, quite naturally, but to wear it out evenly is to use the crutch for different ailments at different times of the day. What those times are I’ve no idea. What those ailments are; where to start. It seems I’ve always been ailing. My conditions have been no help. I’ve been no help. They itch too. My legs. The feeling comes and goes but the itching never stops. I’ve told myself an itch is only in my head but they still itch. Scratching is action I’ve taken but as a rule I’m not a man of action. Far from it. Well it’s a bit hard with these withered sticks.
Taking action against mosquitoes, Id rather not. They aren’t the cause of my itching, as I’ve said, my mind is. The external stimulus of a bite is an itch I can overcome. I suppose you’d say my room is a dark and dingy place, the fan is always on as no draught is too cold for me. The light is sort of a yellow but there is never enough to tell. The lack of light in my room has caused my legs to wither. It’s a vitamin deficiency. Lack of use hasn’t helped. The doctors said I should keep them active when they diagnosed me but I said I should stay off them for a while. Heated words followed and I won the day but now who’s laughing? I think they were a bit rude to do that; but I’m not a doctor. Actually I saw the doctors on the television and they were talking of a case, no names were mentioned, but I knew, I always know. Then they started laughing, it wasn’t overt but you could tell or at least I could. They said they didn’t know what I meant when I saw them again they were driving an ice cream truck at full speed at midnight with X-rays of my legs on sale in place of ice cream. I was naturally furious, I hate being woken. Particularly at night. That was the last night I saw my crutches.
I find it hard to walk these days so withered and weak are my legs, even getting out of bed is a real chore and the lavatory: forget about it. The crutches really are of no assistance, although it’s fair to say I have used them or at least one of them. Getting the best use out a crutch is an art form I’ve down pat. The rubber on the bottom wears out, quite naturally, but to wear it out evenly is to use the crutch for different ailments at different times of the day. What those times are I’ve no idea. What those ailments are; where to start. It seems I’ve always been ailing. My conditions have been no help. I’ve been no help. They itch too. My legs. The feeling comes and goes but the itching never stops. I’ve told myself an itch is only in my head but they still itch. Scratching is action I’ve taken but as a rule I’m not a man of action. Far from it. Well it’s a bit hard with these withered sticks.
Taking action against mosquitoes, Id rather not. They aren’t the cause of my itching, as I’ve said, my mind is. The external stimulus of a bite is an itch I can overcome. I suppose you’d say my room is a dark and dingy place, the fan is always on as no draught is too cold for me. The light is sort of a yellow but there is never enough to tell. The lack of light in my room has caused my legs to wither. It’s a vitamin deficiency. Lack of use hasn’t helped. The doctors said I should keep them active when they diagnosed me but I said I should stay off them for a while. Heated words followed and I won the day but now who’s laughing? I think they were a bit rude to do that; but I’m not a doctor. Actually I saw the doctors on the television and they were talking of a case, no names were mentioned, but I knew, I always know. Then they started laughing, it wasn’t overt but you could tell or at least I could. They said they didn’t know what I meant when I saw them again they were driving an ice cream truck at full speed at midnight with X-rays of my legs on sale in place of ice cream. I was naturally furious, I hate being woken. Particularly at night. That was the last night I saw my crutches.
