October 13, 2016|
I tried the GTAs on my iPhone. Controlled better than one would expect, but can't imagine getting 40 hours into it and still using the touchscreen. Especially not with how much I crashed my car. The first mission failed because my car just kind of went up the side of a bridge barrier and turned over. It was quite pathetic.
I finally took morphine before bed to little effect, and against the advice of anyone who would know me and my penchant for sensation dulling/enhancing. But I had dreams of a girl who loved me so much and was so attractive that they could only be the result of something designed to make you feel loved. I wish I could feel that way. Yesterday a blonde on the train flipped her hair and pulled it up and tied it up, and I think of her now, sitting here in this car, hunched over, belly gratuitous. I wonder if someone who looks that delicate could enjoy my attention, could enjoy giving me hers. I wish I could stop craving it, so that if it is not the case, I can live my life, and if it is, I can accept it.
So I ordered one of the best reviewed MFi controllers. It kind of has me tempted to update my iPad and possibly ruin everything positive about my iPad experience so I can play on that, because there is no clamp to hold the iPhone onto the controller. But the price and the reviews were so good. It's the only recent gaming product I have bought used/refurbished. Because gamers eat garbage and their hands are coated in boogers. But it was almost half off and it's such a silly peripheral I would never even consider if I could actually play my PlayStation. Everybody looks like a weird puppet in games from the turn of the century. Which makes sense considering all the weird puppets from the turn of the prior century.
Yesterday I had off. I was supposed to attend mandatory training, but was locked out. Turns out it was cancelled, and no one was being notified. I let my coworker know and then got on a train and sat behind that girl and her hair. She won't ever remember me, but I will remember her. I feel like a serial killer.
I walked a lot yesterday, took the train to get a haircut, then back to where my car was being maintained, brought a donut to the park, thought of taking pain pills I don't know. I found a bench facing a path, with its back to people who were far away. Good place to be ignored. And then I see the crow on the ground, breathing, then it twists and flips because something touches it in a way it doesn't like. It is covered in flies, persistent in their want, unable to empathize or care. Simple, disgusting little beings. One of them touches my lip and eyelid. The bird is mostly still but violently flips over in a manner that seems so unnatural, but must be the most natural act that could be done in that moment. It resembled a glitch, as it twitched its body and its neck flung backward and the rest of its body pointed toward the sky, with its head then beneath it. It breathed out soft coos as the flies accumulated. A squirrel stopped and watched, stood on its hindlegs. A crow above cawed.
It was difficult to tell what they were responding to, if they were responding to anything at all. I think crows are designed in a way that may be deeper and more complex than we know. Maybe the crow on the ground was bested by the crow above.
Maybe the crow on the ground was its best friend.
Maybe the squirrel was disturbed; maybe it saw a possible food source.
The bird cooed itself into stillness. And the flies swarmed over it. I wish I could have cared for it, but I thought of a hunter who stayed away from an animal he'd killed. What would have seemed like a peaceful act of getting closer to the bird may have sent adrenaline pounding through what remained of it, may have seen me as another fly, but bigger, more violent.
Maybe its body cared for it, flooding its system with dopamine or some equivalent. Maybe it was numbed in the end. I hope so. I hope that by the time I walked away, the crow felt nothing, couldn't feel the swarm canvassing its body, couldn't feel its death.