It's like a bad blow to the noggin'....say like bumpin' your head on a cabinet.
You see stars! Well, technically swimming atoms over your eyes. And suddenly---it makes you think, Owww...I'm a Human. I'm a Human and I have atoms as parts.
Except that doesn't happen to me anymore, and I've begun to wonder about that. Instead, I stare forward without blinking. All Systems Are Go. At least, it feels good to say that.
When I was a young man, a man in college, I used to play all-kinds of intramural sports. Flag Football was our frat sport, and we played it often clear into dusk. But we also played baseball, ultimate Frisbee and basketball when the black guys would let us use their courts.
Back then I was so spry and lankly muscular---I really got around with the ladies. The sorority girls would gather around the fields and watch us play football in our tight shorts. I'd do my own type of "non-flirting" where I would raise my shirt to wipe the sweat away from my forehead, all the while pretending not to see them swoon.
That's how I met my girl...playing Flag Football! To think a bunch of guys chasing each-other around reaching-out to grab asses could turn a bunch of women-on! Wow.
I hear vibration. It worries me that I don't blink. Something is happening. I hear vibration.
The college helped me find an internship which turned-into a major job at a big company located a couple hundred miles away in the Big City.
I can't remember the name of the company. I can't even remember the name of the Big City. What is happening to me? More vibration. Someone seems to be approaching from upstairs.
I remember the name of my gym though---it was called City Gym.
City Gym of what city dammit? Have I blinked? In hours?
That gym had everything, though it was small. Real bodybuilders went to City Gym. It was motivating to be around people like me, men who lived for nutrition and looking healthy. I immersed myself into that environment...some would even say to my detriment!
I put on so much muscle back then! I worked-out in the early mornings AND after my shifts. I got so big other members would give me priority on the weights.
And like some superstar on steroids, I changed that year for sure. I of course didn't get any taller, but I did get huge. I went from a size Medium to an Extra Large. People who hadn't seen me in months were shocked.
"ROIDS, Man" someone would say, under their breath whenever I went in public. This got to where it was making me real self-conscienced---so I sort of went underground.
I stopped working-out and shopping during normal hours so that no one would leer at me, or bother me with their opinions. I was amazed at my size and considered myself a candidate for Mr, Olympia then.
Late night at the grocery I could also read labels and compare my own theories about nutrition without anyone interfering. Although this was also prime time for gay cruising and more than once I've had to whisper "...I'm not gay," to a passing male fan out shopping for late night chocolate AND/OR piece of ass.
By way of California, I made it all the way to the Olympia that year; but was placed real far down. I think I was in the 18th position when people started to fall-out or quit. I had a lot of media coverage at least, and was voted a crowd favorite, finally making it to 6th Place!
Suddenly the lights come on and there is a woman in a business suit standing right in front of me. She's talking, but I can't hear what she is saying. I can't even read her lips. She's a heavy set blonde with pretty eyes. This is probably the vibration I felt?
She's looking all-around, on top, beside me---rubbing her fingers near my eyes but I still cannot make-out what she is saying...which soon becomes...
"Duh---here's the ON Switch."
Another voice is added to the room, and it has created an added vibration: "It's OLD...probably going to be perfect for our project. But it has to warm-up."
And that's exactly what it feels like...a warm...or sick...feeling in me. My memories of my glorious days as a champion bodybuilder grow bright as I see one last glimpse of myself posing in those dumbass trunks! Then the picture begans to fade. I'm beginning to hear better and realize the saddest thing...a devastating revelation that I'm not really Human after all. I'm some product of a tape left across the head of a machine. And to hear correctly, I'm a machine which has almost outlived it's usefulness.
"I don't know if it will work for this project, but we can try." says the male vibration.
The female answers with surprise in her voice "...well look at this---a tape from the 1988 Mr. Olympia." She ejects the tape, handing it to the male vibration.
"They sure don't make 'em like this anymore, do they?"
The female vibration laughs at me. Humiliating. I feel nothing.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
A Poem for The Line
I crossed a line last night
and kissed your neck
holding you close enough to smell
in a Buddy Hug.
I couldn't help it.
Your skin is soft,
like I imagined it.
Yes, I imagine it.
I'm guilty of imagining it.
I want to kiss all of you.
I could stare into your eyes
and heal my soul!
Although the loneliness I see in them
scares...
...makes me want to flee to the Hemispheres.
Aren't we Hemispheres anyway?
Your Way is clear
and you would have me wait a Year...
-to establish Trust.
How can I wait to kiss your lips?
Lips I could ravish until we are rolling in the wake of my lust?
And what about Regret?
Would you regret me after all?
Adding me to Lists?
Lists too painful to revisit,
would but cause you tears?
The sum of Fears of all my generations is Here
in the Me.
In Us.
As I cross the line and kiss your lips, just now...
I kiss you with my Soul.
Like I always have imagined it.
by Red Irvin Adley
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