Chapter 12
Wednesday morning came crashing down
I awoke from my nightmares and
looked to the mirror to find a frown
sometimes it feels like no one cares
if I'm feeling down.
A nostalgic moment as I recollect
The sleepless nights I spent fretting
Seven years I've seen this shadow
It seemed as far away as my death
Now it is in my face.
Today is the day I get my shots
I think of the syringe
as the room gets hot
I tense and cringe
forgot if it hurt or not.
Revisiting from my past
is a spectre who snuffs my hope
With every physical
Your nuts get groped
There is no up
only a downfall
won't you join me as I recall?
::flashback::
I had avoided the school physical all year. I recieved the slip to go to the nurse and I just never went. I figured I could escape the nut busting experience. I knew that when you go into the room and the doctor fondles you, you become a scapegoat to all of their problems. Your gonads are treated as a stress ball as the doctor wrenches them around. Ohhh, the thought makes my stomach feel like it is twisting. The end of the year had come and I had come this far without being tortured. Then my spanish teacher gave me another slip. I looked at the time and it was during her class. I threw it away and thought nothing of it. The time came during the class when I should have gone to the physical. I felt the feeling of confidence, I thought I had beat the system. Then I heard, "Rico, you have to go to the nurse." Rico was my spanish class name. I couldn't believe it, my spanish teacher was making me go. I wondered is she was some sort of saddist. She knew what I was going for, I think she enjoyed knowing I would endure one of the most degrading things ever. So I walked what seemd to be the hallway to my death. I entered the nurse's office and they brought me to the room where the doctor was. He was balding, had nerd glasses, and talked with somewhat of a lisp. I thought that I had gotten the gay doctor. What was I to do? He checked my lungs. He told me to breathe in and out. He tested me for back problems. He shined that light thing in my eyes. After he finished examining me, he started writing in his pad. Could it be? He was not going to touch my manhood today. I took a breath of relief. Then I heard ::snap::. Only one thing snaps like that, laytex gloves. I had indeed, thought too soon. The doctor turned around and said, "Please remove your pants and boxers." I froze. It was as if it was not really happening. The words spilled from my mouth without me even thinking, "But doctor, so soon, we just met?" He ignored my comment and insisted I derobe. I dropped my pants as he proceeded to probe me. He squeezed my junk and I swear it felt like he squeezed a nut between his fingers. He made me hold my wanker against my stomach as he inspected my scrotum. He took his sweet old time. I thought he was trying to mold my genitalia into some sort of shape. Then he stopped groping me and said he was done. I pulled up my pants and left with hurt pride. I didn't even get a sticker. It was horrible. So that night I followed the doctor home. I killed him and his family. I got my revenge. Actually the last part never happened, I think.
::end of flashback::
So my mother drove me to the doctor's office. I had dreaded this day since I was eight. I remember my mom told me when I was fifteen I would need a shot. Now here I am, getting the shot. I would also need a physical. This means I would have to live throught another tormenting experience. I went in. They made me pee in a cup. I went to the bathroom
unzipped my pants. It was weird not peeing in the toilet. I filled up the entire cup and didn't pee on my hands at all. I walked into the room and handed the nurse my cup of urine proudly. I made sure to inform her that I did not pee on my hands at all. She laughed, I guess I make pee in a cup funny. The nurse left and told me to get undressed. I din't want to be standing there bare-assed when the doctor walked in. So I pretended like I didn't hear her. The doctor came in and checked my back, lungs eyes, ears, and reflexes. She was not going to give me a physical. I guess what the nurse meant by "undress", wa stake off my shirt. I guess It was a good thing I didn't get naked. That could've been an uncomfortable situation.
The doctor would walk in and I would be exposing my albino plae skin. She'd be like, "Why are you naked?" I'd be like, "For the physical." She respond, "That's too physical for me." I would respond by saying, "Hey, I like being naked." I guess its good that never happened.
She gave me my shot. I didn't even feel it. Seven years of dread for that. I could have lived a normal childhood, but no. I had to live in fear of the shot. Stupid me as a child.
Afterwars I went to Wal-mart and purchased two CD's and a skateboard. I wanted to get the best of Bob Marley, The Stray Cats, Five Iron Frenzy, George Thorogood, and Project 86. I did not have enough money so I bought Five Iron frenzy's new CD, "Cheeses...of Nazareth" and Project 86's new CD, "Truthless Heros". The Five Iron Frenzy Cd contains all of their B sides and silly songs. The Project 86 CD is a work of art. It is sort of like the Pink Floyd CD, in that is tells a story. Only Project 86 produced the CD without consuming large amounts of drugs. I suggest you purchase the album.
After listening to the album, I had an idea. What if I wrote a novel and made it an audio novel on CD. The tracks would be seperated by chapters. It would be like a musical, without broadway music. I could write art-rock songs and perform them on the CD as well. I would have several different people tell the story. We would switch off every other sentence or paragraph, to keep it interesting. If the novel had a good plot line and the songs are good, I think it could become a masterpiece. Look for that sometime soon.
My mind is full of thoughts
about you, about me
about candy
I'd like to thank the cool kids
for being so cool
I'd like to slap the dumb kids
for being fools
I'd like to leave you with this
You can shun society and live in the underground, but you will become no better than the MTV slaves if you let the underground media spoonfeed you your own ideals. In otherword, think for yourself. Stop living off of other people's ideals. Stop modeling after people you will never become. Focus on creating yourself, instead of creating reasons why everyone else around you is a worse person.
