Boiling Kettle Water

It was such a different morning.

4:55 am. About a few more minutes and I had to get out of bed and get ready to go to work.

I felt drugged. A couple of weeks ago was just the same as this morning was, and that is so not good.



“Get up dear, get up now. come on sweetie it’s five now. Get up or you’ll be late”

that’s a familiar ring, resonating back and forth of the walls of my hollow head. I got up, my vision a blur, my ears a buzz, my heart a frustration. I don’t I don’

I dragged my foot, then the other, then the other again. Drag, Drag, come on. just a few more steps before the dining table. Oh look at that sweetheart, it’s uhm hmm..fried rice and eggs and hotdog! Oh look there’s another surprise, it’’s..uhmm..smell it. It’s coffee. My stomach churned.

*whistle* (long and eerie)

“Oh dear, the water’s ready. a little faster sweetheart”

I munched, I chewed, I neebled like a kitten.

I went back to my room and opened the cabinet wide wide wide. hmm, black and red? violet? blue or green? Ah, i know..what do I feel today? Alright, there’s my black pants and Black top. oh and look, my red flats and red bag. oh good, there’s my undergarments. my towel was waiting there for me, lying like a stupid old piece of..well..towel.

I went to the bathroom. oh wait I forgot the damned kettle. Too bad. I was too bummed to go back but heck, here it goes. i’m holding it nicely. It was so hot. It was burning my fingertips. Oh look, the bucket’s filled with nice cold water. Get the pail out the stupid bucket and pour out the stupid kettle water damn it.


*ouch!* *ouch!* buuurns! I watched in subtle horror as I slid beside the bucket, all mushy and slippery, watched the kettle slip from my clumsy fingers and the boiling water seemingly in a very very sluggish motion pouring out of its mouth. Water and more water flowing nicely over my arid skin. It was nice. it felt nice to feel horrified.

Am i dreaming? asked the foolish little voice. of course not idiot.

I watched and enjoyed, boiling water out the kettle splashing freely over my arms. How could I not immerse myself with this beauty? it feels exactly the way i do. lookie, lookie, it didnt want to join the baby rapids inside the bucket. As much as i didn’t want to go with the rapids as well. my own rapids. I was trying to sail against the current. and boy, was that really effin jerky? (of course)

I just realized, maybe, just maybe, had I not tried to pray for this, will i still be here?

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