I am having difficulty sleeping.
It’s not because I murdered my wife. It’s not because I killed my mistress.
Oh I suppose one can make a case for feeling some guilt out the dismemberment of my three children and the watching of their blood, partially my blood, pouring down the bathtub drain.
I suppose, but honestly I didn’t feel any pit in my stomach or burning sensation tearing my insides apart. I didn’t feel anything, not a thing.
Oh wait, that’s not entirely true; my apologies.
I did feel relief. I felt a massive wave of relief and even calm with each axe blow and saw cut. I am smiling now as I recall how easily I dissected the women…
I can only describe it as a cleansing, a purging of emotion and thought. As I chronicle this confession of action a great weight has lifted from my chest and escaped my conscience.
Hell, this alone should allow me to float into the never land of rapid eye movement and drool.
I should be feeling a great weight force my eyelids snap shut but it’s been three days and three nights and I just can’t sleep. Not even now.
It’s not because my mind is racing. I’m not very deep. I’m impulsive and not an intellectual.
Police? Am I worried about the police you ask?
No, I’m not concerned. This is a medium size coastal town masquerading as a city with a department more interested in donuts, muscle flexing and young beach bunnies.
We have a saying here; ‘If the crime doesn’t happen at the mall, it doesn’t happen at all’.
Our State crime lab is a mess. Union political hacks, you know the drill. So I’m not losing sleep on this point.
Besides the newspaper and local television says I’m dead. That little red herring I devised of inserting a male corpse into the mayhem; a homeless man of similar build for mine seems to have done the trick.
Like everyone else, he is in pieces and with all the deceased I’ve kept the hands and heads.
Dread, confusion, excitement, emptiness, sadness, want, desire….no but I think pondering and writing about this dilemma of mine has helped. I think I’m getting warmer or maybe my space heater is a too little close...
No, it’s off.
Anger, annoyed, bored, in denial, depressed, distracted, envious, jealous, and guilty – we covered that. Grief, optimistic, resentful, regretful, shame, stressed, unhappy --- yeah that’s more the ticket.
Unhappy, frustrated, agitated, displeased; my shrink was right. She’s a genius. ‘Chronicle your thoughts and re-trace your steps and the meaning will be revealed’. Wow that chick has it right.
Well all I know I’m not killing her after my Thursday appointment.
I will have to go down the list and pick another name. No problem the list is long enough, but Hallelujah she is really helping me.
Yeah, ‘unhappy, frustrated, agitated, displeased’; all of them and they all relate to these damn lamps.
I didn’t want to admit it because I have trouble with criticism even if it is self criticism. I made these lamps by hollowing out their heads but they suck.
I can’t get enough light out of the eye sockets to make it matter and if I want to let more light out of the mouth, I have to be careful with how far I open the jaw because if it is opened too far the head falls over. What a rip.
Even with all six together ---they suck.
What a crappy idea on my part. I just wanted some lamps. They are very expensive and I am tired of living by flashlight. I couldn’t find any at the flea market or any yard sales. There are none at the dollar store.
I’m just trying to show improve my lifestyle with initiative and achievement and I’m screwed. What a failure I am and boy does that hurt my narcissism and self-esteem.
God I’m disappointed and tired. Still, does anybody want to come over tonight and play Canasta?
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