Recently asked Benefit of the Daw if she’s friends with Pruit Igot, then realized the tone with which I asked the question so expectedly she asked, “crusheth mo?” I said no of course not, on the contrary I’m asking if you’re friends with her because I recently had ten minutes of non-encounter with her and she seemed to emanate… nega-vibes. And just when we thought we had eradicated nega in the zeitgeist.
Truly there are people who just seem to emanate this sort of thing, like they have something we can’t quite put a finger on but there it is and it is scary or more annoyingly it is… annoying. Have been afraid of a lot of people recently, probably because I’m dealing with a lot of fears right now: in the past two weeks I have diagnosed myself to have seminoma, bladder outlet obstruction, lung cancer, some mediastinal mass, or parkinson’s disease, and myocardial infarction. I’ve been having ten different seemingly incompatible symptoms at the same time (whine whine whine), and for more I don’t ever want to have diagnostic exams done. In terms of really bad diseases my mantra is “ignorance is bliss”. Which is not exactly true as my differentials run and run in my head endlessly so there’s nothing blissful about that. Zolofta is beckoning.
I recently told Troglodytes Troglodytes Troglodytitiphus that with everything I’m dealing with right now (poverty, undiagnosed disease, fear of things, this heat) I hope I don’t turn into a Final Night monster doctor aggravated by the mental control of Gorilla Grodd. Of course you know I’m talking about the magnificent Supergirl volume 3 Final Night tie-in story as written by Peter David.