Bloodhound

'When you start bleeding, you talk all night... Here's the place where the scent got lost'*

On Friday I went along to my local bloodbank to donate some red water. 16gauge, into vein with barely a pinch, bag filled up quickly, and volunteered to give some plasma when I get back to Sydney. Afterwards the nice ladies gave me some cheese and bikkies, and I realised as I spoke to my waiting-room buddy that I was WIRED. Totally hyped and talking at a zillion words a minute. Out on the street, walking to work at great speed, had to call dear Necrotitties to return to some state of semi-calm before I reached the office. Had forgotten the adrenalin rush-- its been a while!

Late in the evening the flood came, the painters arrived, Aunt Flo came to call. Considerably less fun, more painful in a bad way, and less productive (though more cathartic really, being the tears of my unfulfilled womb and all). Maybe I should feed it to the plants, or make art out of it?


*H&C, Dog