I had said I was done reading Bukowski's last book I bought a couple days ago, but I actually just read the last short story and it was interesting in that it doesn't follow the pattern of his other works. He is being hunted by his blanket. I will try to do an homage to this story.
I have noticed for some time I have not been sleeping well. Everyone around me tells me it is because I am on night shift, or it is because I am overweight, maybe my thyroid is giving me more problems than I care to admit. Well, I know I have made a mockery of the religious and people who believe things based on faith, but I am in the middle of my own unexplained problem and it is time I shed some light upon it, see of anyone cares to believe me. I believe my quilt is using me to get extra human power. I am not sure what purpose this is for, but it is probably mine and Wife's fault for being sloppy.
I must admit, the further this goes on, the worse I am getting. I never know if I am fully awake, or in the middle of a dream sequence. I'll catch myself thinking if I sit on the edge of the bed, I will stay awake, but a few times I have fallen over and I'll awake startled thinking I am falling all the way to the floor. Conversely, I do the opposite, where I decide I will lay down to sleep, but then I find myself tossing and turning.
The quilt though, you wonder? It started accidentally, it was on the bed kind of between Wife and I as we did our loving and it caught my love juices once or twice. I think that is what gave it the strength to come to life. A few times recently though, I am thinking I am asleep and the quilt is gathered around my body and I feel like a woman's legs are around me, and before I can control myself I feel my body being squeezed and played with and before I know it, ughhh, I release all over the freaking quilt. I cannot believe that is of my own doing, I want to think I am in more control of myself. But the quilt, that quilt is just getting stronger with every story of deception and trick it gets off of me.
I mean this could all be in my head, right? Maybe the quilt is just an innocent piece of cloth that seems to be getting "stronger" because I keep using it as target practice and it is getting stiffer with every "delivery". Maybe I am asleep and it is in my own head that someone is writhing around on top of me, I call it a win either way, as long as I don't have to use my hands.
Unlike in Bukowski's short story, I am not giving this blanket to anyone, whether a beloved family member or a pain in the ass neighbor, so if it is getting shot to show it was alive, it will have to be me, as of yet it seems harmless and if I am correct, it seems to only want to pleasure me, so fuck yeah.
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