Class 3 Craziest shit I ever wrote.

I’ve let the nail on my left thumb grow.

It weighs an outrageous amount.

Subject to subtle surges of gravity.

It wedges and snags on things for days.

I can’t wait to clip it but I understand exactly why I’ve let it go this long.  It offends me.  I hate it.  I can’t help it.  My left arm tingles with the anticipation of eliminating it.  Sometimes at night, the left thumb aches from it’s weight.  It is ponderous.

I loathe it because it collects black grime and constantly informs me of it’s presence.  It disgusts me.  Even though I am able to help it, I can’t.  I just can’t.

I must do it now.  Right now.  I can’t stand it.  The need for relief from the mass I’ve allowed has reached past solvency.  I no longer understand it.  One compulsion usurps another.  This is crazy.  It won’t leave me alone.  It pulses like a sore tooth.  It digs at me.  I look at my hands and the symmetry is disrupted almost violently.  It’s a rogue tooth.

Why have I done this?  It’s an affront.  Yellow like corn at the end and clay from my everyday life embedded at it’s base.

Inside it.

It offends.

I want to scratch it against something filthy.

I consider smashing it with a hammer or making it pop like a grape in a vice.  My thumb.

Giant, pastel green grasshoppers suddenly suffer mass abdominal explosions, yielding orange flavored Tick Tacks of soft and sticky shrapnel.  Barely any sound.  I imagine my overgrown thumbnail digging at the giant tangerine rice grasshopper eggs ………

The time is now.  It is my Tell Tale Heart.  I rip up the floorboards.  A heart beats beneath.

I’ve done it.  I’m lighter.  Didn’t wait until I got outside.  Sheared it off over the kitchen sink with giant steel toe incisors.  Not sure it’s short enough but I’m relieved.  Relaxed.  It was a wet fish I stuffed into my pants on purpose.  Ocular organs of grasshoppers crisping and popping beneath my eye teeth.  Ants and mosquitos mingle in my gullet sharing heartburn.  They dance in my colon and I crap like a goose.

I need a shower.

My right thumbnail is still innocent.  Virginal.

Drinks for my friends.

One Response to “Class 3 Craziest shit I ever wrote.”

  • admin:

    I wrote this for my class. My advanced memoir and autobiography class. It’s a college class. I intend to turn this in. I also have to read. I won’t be reading this.

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