Toothache

Violate everything. Upset all order. re-stack the cards, deal me to a world where my id rules, rid me of what cares about right, wrong or you. Or it's gonna kill me. I'm Ahab. Says Stub, "he's got what some folks ashore call * a conscience; it's a kind of Tic-Dolly-row they say--worse nor a toothache." Way worse than a toothache. Covers tangled, pillows scrunched, stripped of cases, sheets unfitted, as if from last nightmare the bed was never made. And you want to relate to me, but not in the way I want you fill your need with me not mine with you-- --how your bed's made I'm afraid my need's a black hole you'll disappear I should steer away. You make me feel a lot less empty, even treat me with care. I should feel lucky to have this much of you, This black-hole-- Ahab's obsession-- destroyed him, his ship, and his whole crew. And this--toothache --I should feel so lucky You want to relate to me, and I want you to. Where this ship's sailing, it's been a pleasant cruise. Why I'd steer it toward disaster with everything to lose-- God, help me. There's so much better to pursue than deep dark obsessions, black holes, whatever I'm drawn to. You asked last night if I was still feeling crazy. Well, I think I'm through *Melville, Herman: Moby Dick CHAPTER 29: Enter Ahab; to Him, Stubb. (I don't know the page, but who reads these footnotes, anyway...)