Manifest Destiny

I woke up dreading the evening. I had been running ragged since the start of the month. It was the last day of it and the last event. A part of me was hoping it would get canceled. Still high from the night before I stumbled out of bed. My body was still stained with Sandcastle water. I walked around an unshowered mess.

My bank account mocked me from beyond my phone’s screen. Nothing was going to make the number higher. Not staring or hoping or praying. I definitely needed to stay home, indefinitely. Even at home, though, I needed to eat. I cracked open my fridge and saw nothing that would keep me alive. The half eaten pack of Hershey’s kisses would’ve only given me diabetes. I couldn’t have eaten popcorn all day and I only had two packs. I checked the account again…


Food may not be free but for now laundry was. Under normal circumstances I would have texted PA first. My laundry bag was filled and almost nothing wearable was clean. Dragging my bag across the lawn I took a second to bake in the free sun. It felt good. I walked into PaulieAnne’s house and went straight up the stairs to her room. She was on a conference call in her office. I loaded the clothes and left as quietly as I arrived. As I passed the living room I saw two people both staring at screens. I was in no mood to be social so I didn’t care.


Back at my place I was still dreading the night. Nothing bad was happening but something was happening at all. Bear was in town accompanied by her long-time (for me, anyway) boyfriend. I hadn’t seen Bear in probably seven years. My desire hadn’t waned in the least. My biggest issues were fighting the urge to spend my last sheckles on alcohol and not hitting on her. I was more concerned about the later.

My goal for today was to advance in the playoffs and mentally prepare for more socialization. I was having a gay ole time in 2K. The games were competitive and required me to step my focus up. Through fatigue and grumpiness I still managed to pull out victories from deep holes and beat Lamelo’s bitch ass Charlotte team to go to the Finals.

That’s where the happiness ended. The night before I puffed the last flower that I owned. It was a lackluster affair. To me it seemed appropriate. After four years of smoking weed consistently I shouldn’t have expected a grandiose exit. I should’ve been happy to be alive. Smoking was draining me of my energy and only leaving me slightly euphoric at times. The return seemed worth the risk until there was no more puff left. Addiction was playing tricks on me and I was allowing it.


Today, however, there was no room in the inn. At 2am I was scraping the sides of a canister, polishing off the last of my happy juice. The high was just as all the others only I was exhausted. I ritually masturbated and unceremoniously fell right asleep. I knew even before I woke up that I was getting my hours. My dreams were plentiful.


Being awake was not as fun. Even winning in 2K seemed like work. Everything seemed like work. I was so tired I didn’t stretch. All I wanted to do was nothing for the foreseeable future and watch money fall into my lap. My mood was not conducive to meeting new or old people. Bear and her boyfriend were going to get a dilapidated Julian. I felt bad and it hadn’t even happened yet.

I was hoping that something would happen though. Something that could take me away from having to go. I felt bad for even wanting that. The hours ticked past, leaning closer to the time I’d have to catch the bus. Not a second went by that I felt more prepared than the last. I chugged a bunch of water and felt the need to release my bowels. I finished, went to turn a corner and BAM! My toe scraped the corner of a wall.

I went to the check the damage on the wall but didn’t get that far. My toe hurt a little but the cut looked gnarly. Then it started bleeding. And bleeding… and bleeding. My inexperience led me to run cold water over the wound. I figured that at some point it would stop. The more water I ran over the toe the more red my bathroom became. The blood wasn’t stopping but spreading. After five minutes I knew I had to switch it up.


Guilt… I mean… blood was spilling down my foot. Somewhere in the back of my head I thought ‘I manifested this’. I grabbed a rag and applied pressure to the toe and hopped on one foot to the other room. “Hey Google, how do you stop a wound from bleeding?” I hopped to the freezer and wrapped ice cubes in a paper towel with one hand while squeezing the life out of my toe with the other. The paper towel ice pack went from white to blood red in seconds.

‘I totally manifested this’…

The blood… I mean… guilt crept over my body as I hopped over to my phone. My toe had been bleeding for a solid ten minutes before my Hippocratic acrobatics let me feel secure enough to do anything else. Even then I had to use my voice. “Hey Google, call Bear.”

‘I definitely manifested this’… I canceled, halting a seven year meeting in its tracks. Bleeding through the rag, I was hoping she’d not have a boyfriend by then. I called my mom who, having COVID, still listened to me and gave great advice. We hung up then I called my surrogate mother, PaulieAnne. I asked PA for a band-aid after telling her what I had done. Despite my mother suggesting that PA come to me (steep steps and one badly bleeding foot), I slapped on a crappy sock, shoved it into a shoe, and hobbled down the steps and out the door.

‘I for sure manifested this’

I hadn’t seen PaulieAnne in what felt like weeks. The last few text messages to her weren’t replied to. One was a request and after that I’m not sure. I was beginning to think I had worn out my welcome. I hadn’t seen her or the kids in forever. Every time I reached out it was to ask her for something. Here I was again, this time it was more life-and-death than “Can I use the car for some fuck shit”. When I opened my door she was already on the porch.


I sprinted on one and a half legs to her porch and through the door. I slid my shoes off and sat down in her kitchen. Once I revealed my injury it was apparent that a band-aid was no help. The toe was still in full on bleed-to-death mode. PA left to grab some actually helpful supplies when around the corner came Nora. I missed that kid. I was glad that I had an excuse to be around. … damn, I miss that hoe…


PA was right in her assessment that I might need stitches. I did NOT manifest that. The money I would’ve spent at Brillobox would’ve been much less than medical treatment. My stress level reached a new high. If cutting my toe off would’ve been the cheaper option I’d have taken it. (insert Patrick “I have $2” meme) Anything that cost money was too much. Had I not been in close proximity of other people who cared I’d have been screwed. Love and resources hold as much weight as they always have.

But I had no money. PA suggested I go to an urgent care. F$CCCCCK. I joked before about dying before I go to a hospital but the situation was all too in my face. Paying even for Advil would have broken the bank. My toe kept bleeding so I had to acquiesce. PA and I loaded up the car (with ourselves) and I ditched the bloody rag in the garage before we left for the nearest Urgent Care. We pulled out of the alley and to my right was a fit looking girl walking a dog. I thought ‘Is this the last hot chick I get to see?’ I felt so low.

When we pulled up to Urgent Care I felt even lower. Three men were in front the building and they looked as surprised to see us as we were to see that they were closed forever. PA and I drove back to the house. My depression was simmering. All I wanted was to stop bleeding.

In the house PA looked for some more substantial bandaging. She helped me wrap it up in gauze and tape it tight. Right now my pinky and the adjacent toe are bound together. The bandage doesn’t look blood filled so I’m assuming the bleeding halted or slowed immensely. I hope it’s completely healed tomorrow. I’m trying to manifest seeing Cassi again.