LITHIUM STUDY As he punched in the number, his fingers shook the way they used to when he was on Lithium, back when he was underage and had no choice but to do as the doctor ordered. That was before the shrink had realized his miscalculation: the only miracle about that salt was that it didn’t do him in. It severely worsened his condition by slowing him down to a pathetic, briny lump, giving him headaches so stultifying he would wallow in his sweat-soaked bed with a pillow drawn over his face for days on end. Worse still, under its time-warping influence, he would waste countless hours obsessing on irrational, bizarre minutia, like all the myriad, simultaneous, and infinitely miniscule processes that were continuously going on, without surcease, all at once, at a microscopic level, inside his own body—involuntary processes constantly hatching their byzantine plots at his very core, in the least cell and nucleus of his pith and marrow; reptilian processes, witlessly replicating, repeating, and duplicating without end; autonomic anatomical processes he could not see, could neither know nor name, and could never control—and how it blew his mind to comprehend that his brain, the seat of his being, was really nothing more than a rotten, sorry, slimy mass of entrails, as inglorious and insensate as his intestines. ~ Excerpted from SUICIDE RIDE: THE PLATINUM MAN facebook/E.Llewellyn.SuicideRide
Posted on: Wed, 04 Sep 2013 13:40:30 +0000