My Wake

A few years ago I wrote HERE;

On a side note, the hospital I was born in burned down to the ground (as opposed to somewhere else, I guess) and is now a strip mall. The first business that went up in it’s place, being an anchor to the future businesses on the land upon which the sun first shone on me? Kentucky Fried Chicken. I was not displeased to learn of this years later when construction on the restaurant began - “Seems right,” I remember thinking. Who knows what turn my life would’ve taken if a Whole Foods had popped up there? I don’t even wanna think about it. The Colonel taking over my birth spot seems as a-propos as us taking over for the Indians, but with less griping and bitching. Sorry, I’m being told I meant to say “Native Indians.”

My college administration building also burned down after I graduated, strangely enough. So for all I know, there is no record out there that I 1) was born 2) graduated college. For all I know the car that I lost my virginity in has since been doused with gasoline, set afire and shoved off a cliff. Which it might have, for sanitary reasons (sorry baby!) I don’t know what this “burning of my past” is trying to tell me. All that’s left I guess is my childhood home and St. Timothy’s; a coupla well-placed fires and the dissolution of the Beebo’s fruit pie company and my pre-1990’s life will be completely gone. Eighteen years, erased forever. How sad…I loved those little pies. 

And just now I find out that the chapter of my fraternity has been removed from my University. Charter revoked. I don't know why, and I don't really care.

But it does add another layer to the "Xmastime was never here" theme I seem to be cultivating.

I have no home, no family. If a fire broke out, the only things I would care about saving would be my Telecaster and my Peter Leroy book. I can be gone in the breath of an air, and no one would even notice. It's hard to even imagine a man less tethered to Earth than myself. I'm seriously starting to wonder if I'm some sort of experiment, some sort of riddle to see how far one man can live outside the norms of society while still seeming to be a part of it.

Christ, the week after I finally move, can I expect 100 Metro to burn to the ground? Wtf?

Lonely. I guess that's where I'm from.