in Sickness and in Health

A New Start

The day after New Years I awoke, had a decent-sized breakfast, and sat in front of my computer to do some writing.

Four hours later I realized my food was not going to stay down. I went into the bathroom, put my hair into a ponytail, knelt by the porcelain goddess, and vomited up my breakfast, the previous night’s dinner, and any snacks I’d had in between. I waited until I was sure there was nothing left in my stomach and pulled myself to my feet.

I spent the next few minutes running cool water over my face, rinsed my mouth out, and went back into my study to wait out of the rest of the flu.

fever + Anthony Hopkins cinema

That night I was caught in a fevered ribbon of an idea. I was on the Bonneville Salt Flats speedway and was attempting to beat the current land-based speed record. I would awake every thirty minutes, curled against my pillow, with a renewed conviction to try again. I don’t recall my dreams. Around four AM, muscle ache outweighed my tenacity and I pulled myself out of bed. At seven, I called in sick to work.

I spent the day watching bad television and ate a bit of toast.

the loss of porn

I slept. The next morning I managed to dress and bathe myself without too much discomfort. I sat down to check my e-mail before work and found my computer in a state of distress. The hard drive was failing.

I went to work.

I came home.

The next six hours were spent trying to recover data from the dying machinery. I was unsuccessful. Six months of pictures, music, projects, writing. Gone.

But the most painful loss are those items whose existence I may never recall. Snippets of words and ideas cast back into the cauldron of my consciousness.

I went to sleep.

“Ah well, fuck it.”

You become complacent with competence. You forget how it feels to fail at something. To lose something of importance.

But without loss, you never understand what you have.

Time to start over.