Tuesday, November 9, 2010

This little brown Mexican kid


I'm trying to be calm. I'm trying not to panic. I'm doing deep breathing. Life has become hard. My stomach hurts sometimes, especially when I wake up during the night. But I think I may be depressed and I'm angry all the time and I don't like this one fuckin' bit. Pisses me off.

But I have to remain calm. I'm just not feeling physically well, or mentally well for that matter. But I'm generally okay, I'm just depressed. And it's only November 9, but it feels like we're in that deep winter weather. And maybe that's adding to things, I don't know.

You're being quiet...

Have you seen a doctor, farmboy?

I have an appointment for next week.

Good.

This will pass, right?

Right. It will.

You know what I wish?

What do you wish?

I wish I was a child, you know, this little brown Mexican kid. And my mother would be alive and my father would be alive, and I would like winter because of Christmas and, and...

farmboy?

Yes sir?

Don't call me sir. Please.

Okay. Sorry.

Don't worry about it. I just don't like being called "sir."

farmboy, are you going to be okay tonight?

Yes. I will. I just need to be calm. I can't let the, the...thoughts overtake me. I really...

Need to be calm?

Yeah. And I will.

Call me if you need me.

I will. Thanks.

Let me ask you one more time: Are you okay?

Yes. I'm home. Don't worry about me. I'm all right.



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