Wearing my skin.

sorabji.com: I wish you were...: Wearing my skin.
By Chrashtopher on Thursday, February 19, 1998 - 05:18 pm:
    I've been thinking how nice it would be to be declared insane and institutionalized. 4 squares a day, thorazine and triavil, once in the morning and once in the evening, art therapy, group therapy, lots of coffee in the alcoholic rehab wing, cigarettes and long walks on the grounds, conversing with the squirrels that hang on my every word. How nice it would be to hang up my skin and put on something a little more comfortable. I feel like I'm being nibbled to death by ducks. And the rain, Oh jesus, when will it ever stop. Another thing about institutional life that many of you have probably never considered. Hair Cut Day. Snipsnipsnip. My friends the squirrels would understand. My Best and only friends. SOB.

By The squirrels on Thursday, February 19, 1998 - 05:55 pm:
    Actually, we have no idea what a haircut is. Sorry.

By Chrashtopher on Friday, February 20, 1998 - 12:19 am:
    Come now, my frisky little friends. You know damn well what haircut day is. When the blue state van pulls up and all of us ...Uh...residents start getting antsy, you KNOW something is up, and when they start lining us up outside the crafts building and lead us in 2 by 2 (Theres always two of them), you hear that hard, high, buzzing sound and maybe the muffled moans or snorts of joy from us while we have our 3 minutes in the chair, until we exit into the cold harsh light of day to reveal our identical 'Do's; nice shiny whitewalled haircuts and just enough left on top to keep our pointy little scalps from getting too much sun while we walk the grounds in 3 feet of snow and chat it up with you. Don't even try to tell ME that you don't know what haircut day is. And I got some peanuts today. Nice peanuts that are still warm from my pocket. Now come over here and lets talk.


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