Friday, July 13, 2007

Stream of Consciousness to fill a Bathtub

The day was hardly over for most people, and for William the day had barely begun. Yet, the stress of nearly burning himself on the smooth side of the toasted bagel and almost using a dirty knife, that was mistakenly placed back into the silverware drawer, to spread his cream cheese, was enough to justify taking a bath with a couple of Coors Originals. The tub filled as William set the two beers on the edge of rug next to the tub.

- that water looks a little dirtier than last time, when did I clean my bathroom last? Oh, yeah, but I didn’t wash the tub, It didn’t need it, every other time is good enough, I just have to make sure the water doesn’t get too dirty, Every time I take a bath is the time when I wipe my ass the best, That is a given, the artistic element comes from the simplicity of that statement.

William flushes the toilet and submerges his right foot first.

- that is warm, you’ll get used to it, better than being cold, oh shit, reading material

William grabs the first magazine on top of the toilet and drops it next to the beers. He proceeds to fully enter the tub.

- bubbles are for girls, I’ve locked the door, it doesn’t have one, but it’s closed at least, only a crack would be needed, they’d see, I’d tell, beer in the bathtub, nothing better, reading or drinking first, drinking, that wasn’t as hard as I though it would be, it might have been harder if I had bubbles or soapy hands, but it came right off just like it was dry, that is cold beer, I bet the difference in temperature will get me fucked up faster, there is a lot of condensation on this bottle, next to the rug is still good, I need to dry my hands to read, I don’t want a water damaged magazine, every college dorm has a water damaged one, table of contents, SHIT!

The magazine fell right out of William’s dry hands and into the tub. He quickly slides back and grabs the soaked pages.

- it doesn’t look that bad, it is, I can’t even turn the pages, fuck, oh well, I’ll just drink and bathe, where will it dry? I guess the floor will have to do, I wish I had a bigger tub, entirely under water, the chills even in a warm bath, what do the chills mean, I can gage how great an episode of Twin Peaks is by how many times I get chills during the episode, I used to just ignore them, and when people said “it gave, there might be something to the chills, the sound of the water leaking through the excess drain is ten times louder, I hate that, it kills the mood.

William again sits up in the tube. He leans towards his feet and grabs a washcloth. He dips it under water, until it is thoroughly soaked through. He takes the wet rag and tries to plug the excess drain. He leans back down into the water and places his left foot on the blue washcloth.

- I need to fix that, it would be easy, flip it upside down (umop episdn), I might have a screw driver, before my next bath, more, this is still cold, so great, I’ll try to read again, its already wet, better still dry hands, is there a fiction piece in this magazine, that is good tub reading, that book was read in the tub, I’d do it to with a library book too, not my own, I don’t even crease the covers or bend the pages, finding a bookmark is half the fun, only use it for one book and then it gets retired to the last page of the book, when they look through my stuff they’ll find all my receipts and to-do lists, no fiction, this pages are ruined, the middle ones are ok in the middle, the edges are soaked, I’ll toss this one, but I like the pictures, I’ll let it dry.

William once again returns the magazine to the floor. He gently spreads the pages in the middle of the magazine. He grabs his half empty beer and lies back with just his head above the water.

- look at the condensation, if it tilt it it drips, I bet that condensation is cold, I can’t feel it though, if I put my hand, nothing, there is a ton of, can I get one more drop, not without spilling, I’m like michael bay before making the island, but I knew when to stop, blaming Scarlett Johansson, no wonder he said it was hell to work with him, that has to be hard, blamed for a box office flop, I’d drink, or I’d drink more, she’s in that magazine, another reason to keep it, tub is the last place you want to do that, worse than not wiping.

William places the empty beer bottle next to the full one, and then brings the unopened beer into the tub.

- could I use the bar of soap as a bottle opener, I mean if I jammed it into it the top, nope, I can’t get it deep enough, I’ll rinse it before I try again, now its all soapy, I don’t want it to get too warm under water, THE TOWEL, so so so so cold, half the bottle in one gulp, I should have brought three, would it float, maybe another drink, there, remember for the future that the bottle floats when it is a quarter inch past the label, but they have different ones, I won’t drink different ones, straight up (dn thgiarts), like a buoy in a lake, ding-splash-splash-ding, no condensation on that one, is the beer warm, still cold, but not as.

William picks up the beer and studies the label. He picks at one edge and easily peels the whole label off the beer.

- that was cake, never has it been easier, it was the water, not the tension, the top little label, what is that called, neck lable, this bottle is empty, will it float empty, for a second, and then bubbles, I’ll stick this on the wall tile, every time I’ll remember this time, if I kept doing it until the whole wall, the other bottle, isn’t that ironic, ironic? maybe, I began the bath with accidentally having paper in the water, now I’m purposely putting paper under water, that would be nice book ends if this was a story, one of those happy accidents they talk about, those make geniuses, or make them look better, they look smart when they’re just lucky, do people think I’m, naw, I’m not smart enough to act smart.

William sits up and pulls the chain on the drain cover with his toe. His sits still until the empty beer bottle clanks and spills out on the empty tub. William gets up and dries himself off.

Sunday, July 1, 2007

Christopher C. Gilmore has entered a Mental Institution

I regret to inform you that my dear brother has gone on to a better place, a safe place where he will no longer be able to hurt himself or those around him. Due to the incidents last Thursday (the 28th), my brother is now abiding in the Sunny Fields Mental Center, in Spring Falls, Virginia. I knew how much Chris enjoyed writing blogs and all of his virtual friends, so, I as his sister feel obligated to inform everyone of the ill-fated tale surrounding my brother’s mysterious mental demise.

The tragic events began on the evening of the 26th. It was this evening that I curse with every once of my existence. As you know my brother was a sucker for movies, so much so that he rarely minded seeing the same movie twice. And with the lack of original and creative content being produced by Hollywood, he is now more able than ever to view the same premise/film over and over again. This was very much true of the last lucent moments he had. The evening began with his attending a free screening of “Live Free or Die Hard.” The number of sequels or remakes that he had seen this year alone was near twenty, with nearly half being sequels to sequels, or three-quels. And after watching a sequel to a sequel of a sequel, his friends that attended the screener with him said he was, “acting a little strange” and “kept saying the same thing over and over again, then saying if Hollywood can do it so can I.”

When he finally returned to his home, he checked this very myspace account. And according to his History he read a bulletin posted by his friend Taylor. I do not have the courage, nor want to take the responsibility of sharing the exact contents of the bulletin, I will say the post was concerning the very real threat of insanity or death for not reposting the bulletin. Apparently, my brother found the entire charade to be humorous at best and sent this message to his friend:

I just read your bulletin, and I don't believe in the "curse" and I'm not going to repost the silliness, but just in case I end up dead, You'll know why. But we really do need to hang out in the near future, that is if I don't accidentally fall down a sewer and break my neck after hearing laughter in the shower. whaaa ha haa! whaaa ha haa! whaaa ha haa!

The threat for not continuing the chain of the bulletin was an individual would lose there sanity after hearing a laughing voice in the shower or being attacked while in the sewer. From the nearly incoherent ramblings Chris spouted in the short time I saw him before we shipped him away, I can only gather that the reason for his not reposting the bulletin were that he was never in the sewers and that he had just become particularly fond of taking relaxing baths over having the stress of standing on two feet while showering.

The story of the next twenty-four hours may be a lost chapter of the life of Christopher. All we know is that at noon the next day he was found by the police after multiple reports from a strip mall in North Denver of hearing screams and imitation explosions coming from pipe of there stores. Chris was found running through the sewer system yelling and covered in blood. The officer’s report claims that he was yelling “Style with out substance” and “Why repost when it will be remade?”

Our family and our doctors have been asking, did Christopher go insane because of the lack of creativity in American movies or is it related to a curse place on a myspace bulletin? Either way, the Gilmore family is asking everyone to please be careful this summer and hopefully avoiding further mental danger.