who said that they're bookworms?
...
okay, i did something really effing stupid today. try not to think worse of me for sharing this. (yea, and i'm waiting for someone to say "don't worry, it's not possible to think worse of you" XD)
okay, for a few months now i've really, really enjoyed sniffing freshly-struck matches.
someone suggested that it might be due to a B-vitamin deficiency and i think they might be right, and as a result i tried to boost myself with B-vitamins... which among other things are associated with increased energy.
but i still just really really dug fresh-struck matches... don't ask me why. i'm usually very calculating about anything and everything that enters my body, including how close i'm willing to be near carcinogenic chemicals, like paint thinner, gasoline, polyurethane, pesticides and lots of other sh!t. manufactured chemical compounds usually freak me the hell out. even being near-close to magneto-electrical devices makes me nervous, such as computer monitors, microwave ovens, power junction boxes, etc.
anyway, one time i decided to taste the sandpaper strip on a used-up book of matches.
it was godamn delicious! so every time i've finished lighting all the matches in a book, i eagerly lick the residue off the sandpaper strip runway that the matches have brushed against.
how freaking sick is that?
well, today i decided to taste the head of a burnt match for the first time.
it was incredible! salty and sulfurous!
so i decided to conduct a little jackass experiment. i needed to know whether the chemical compounds i was highly attracted to are something my body is telling me to get more of, or whether it's some kind of fake-out that my pleasure centers are sending me, and the stuff in question is worse than doing crack.
so i lit up all the matches in two matchbooks and ate the ends off of all of them. (not the cardboard, just the burnt coating part)
this is very, very unusual behavior for me, but since starting life as a super-uptight nerd i've gotten less and less concerned about life and death as i've gotten older... particularly since i inherited some bad health characteristics from my mom, who suffers from crippling arthritis, severe thyroid problems and other annoying crap.
anyway, for the next thirty minutes i felt great... like i had discovered something new that made me calmer, more rational, more 'easy to be who i am' than ever before.
since then, my stomach lining has been killing me. clearly this was too much burnt match residue to take at one time.
eating, which normally is helpful in relief of ulcerous conditions, has done nothing for me. sleeping only put off the problem, and sleeping is one of the greatest medicines ever known.
i keep thinking about the sister of a GF i had about three years ago... laura sherman i think was her name. she went on kind of a fast or something but developed some kind of stomach problem and because she believed in non-western medicines, refused to go to the hospital. the last thing anybody heard from her was when she called into the organic foods co-op i used to volunteer at, saying "i don't think i'm well enough to work today".
shortly after that her body was found, and the autopsy revealed that something had completely burned through her stomach lining. she died of massive damage to nearby organs in her gut.
geez, she must have had the pain-endurance of rasputin and ghandi combined.
so here i am, thinking of that sh!t... wondering why after so many years of being careful i did something this careless and this stupid.
i am an effing moron, to put it nicely.
but as the years have passed i've stopped being ashamed of emergency rooms and if the problem gets much worse i will bail out and call 911.
and if i die from this bonehead decision, at least it will lend some comic value to human existence. i'm all about that sh!t.
