Monday, August 19, 2013

Brazil, 1985 Part 3: Sleepless in Recife

January 24 - 3:37 am

Can't sleep.
First it was the heat.
Then the tinkle-wobble-whirring of the ceiling fan.
Turn off the fan.
Too hot.
Start to doze off and these itches erupt, one on the ankle,
another on the back
the arm . . . Scratch.
Gotta have a drink of water.
Get up, drink, lie down again.
Now I've gotta pee . . . . . . . . .
Back to bed.
Dreams start to take over but
they're nightmares of
kidnapping and rape
I force it out of my head and
now I'm awake again.
Itches pop up
this time in different places.
I'm convinced there's little
bed bugs; I've already felt
sand in the bed.
My mind starts to imagine
which soon turns to horrible thoughts:
What if a gang of gunmen
forced their way into the hotel and
pillaged the place, shooting everybody
dead with machine guns?
There's a little dog barking.
I'd slather his tail with
peanut butter and stick it
to a sheet of sandpaper
if I could.
The sound of a metal door rattling.
Oh my god, it's the gunmen.
Get up and look out the window
trying to see what's happening
in the lobby from a reflection
in a car window.
Can't see anything.
I couldn't jump from this high.
Listen at the door.
Back to bed.
Don't think any bad thoughts
Damn it!
Scratch Scratch
Fuck! Get out the
Calamine lotion
and feel around for bites.
WOW that's a big one
'bout the size of a quarter!
stop itching everybody
I refuse to scratch anymore . .  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
scratch scratch scratch
Now I've gotta go to the bathroom again.
What time is it anyway?
Scratch scratch
God, there's a big one right in the
middle of my forehead.
I feel like a triclops.
Head itches
legs itch
Oh no, what if I get lice?
Gotta check this out.
Light on, examining.
Find nothing but
that doesn't mean anything.
Can't sleep
might as well turn the fan
back on.
Oh great.
Sun's coming up.
maybe I can get up to the roof
to take pictures?
I'll have to take 'em from
my window here.
Try different shutter speeds.
one will come out.
Well, the birds are really
singin' now.
Guess I'm not
going to sleep
scratch scratch scratch

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