one41

have you ever drank blood? i do it all the time.  lambs blood. tigers blood. bears blood.  you name it. no human blood. that would be weird.  unless it was a direct line, then id do it for sure.  they all have a different kind of consistency and flavor, but its always something familiar and similar.  consistent consistency.  There is something... empowering about it.  it gives me strength.  peace.  like i am one with the universe.  we are all connected.  i drink it before i work out for energy.  for strength.  i find myself in the gym walking from machine to machine, slowly, stalking my prey.  wondering how i will attack and who will win.  talking to myself, talking to the machine.  tunnel vision sets in and my mind becomes quiet.  i begin to count.  its like the chase.  im pursuing my prey, ready to kill.  i need to feed.  then my body becomes one with the machine as we move together. fluid motion, synchronized, steady. now my eyes are closed and my breathing is labored.  my eyes sting with sweat and my body begins to ache.  i know im almost there.  silence now. i bite my lip.  and there it is.  that old familiar taste.  coppery, bitter, warm.  my direct line.  have i become the walking dead.  am i the living dead.  if so, you people are fucked, because i am one fit zombie.  i can't believe they sell this stuff at GNC.

140

Either i am walking in circles or the apartment is spinning.  and that beeping noise. that beeping noise.  is it real or is it in my head. really in my head.  beeping so loudly its coming out my ears. now my mouth. i am spinning and beeping and spinning and beeping... i am a siren.  This is my song.  Beep.  Beep.     Beep.      i wonder whom i will catch with my siren call.  Not many sailors in these parts.  land locked and all.  and all this land is locked.  Don't go here.  Don't go there.  Don't go.  Don't leave me here beeping and spinning and siren-ing.  I've never been a siren before!  I have no idea what i'm doing! shouldn't somebody with more training or education be doing this job.  What am i even a siren for.  Or to? shit shit shit.  who knew being a siren was so hard!?!  Siren anxiety.  Then, just like that, my spell is broken.  The beeping stops and so do my feet.  Standing, pants-less in the middle of my living room, running shoes untied, motionless.  Somebody has turned me off and im me again.  I feel tired and weak.  my mouth taste like purple and my tongue is swollen and dry and my lips are chapped.  I am down.  And out.  I look at the clock.  Six hours i have been pacing my apartment beeping.  Six hours.  I am the living dead.