In Our Time Of Needles

I'm too tired right now. To write quippy things for you guys, I mean.
I'm not too tired to use the keyboard or anything. I'm here, after all. I'm present.
I was supposed to get my stupid mourning tattoo tomorrow (Turpin loved my stupid tattoos), but I can't because I have to give blood first.
For any would-be donors out there who are also in a motorcycle gang, you can't donate for a year after getting a tattoo. Or a piercing (through your penis head, or the bridge of your nose or wherever).
Some of Turpin's family are working on a blood donor initiative that I won't selfishly spill the beans on, but I should probably participate in that before getting her face tattooed to my inner thigh.

This experience has taught me that, like karaoke, I prefer to mourn alone.
The wake/funeral were very suffocating in that everywhere I turned there was someone.
This was our swim coach.
This was an old teacher.
Here's some dude that I don't know who is chewing a ham sandwich with his mouth open.
I often found myself extricating my person from the other persons.
I'm grieving alone still. These blog posts may seem like grieving, but really this is just me drawing attention to myself, just as I always have.
Like, I'm sort of hoping that Sarah's dying is just the angle that this blog needed.
I mean, I've got the writing chops. I've got the "voice" (whiny; off-key).
A gimmick is all that I've needed to shoot myself into super-stardom/marketability.
I'm not going to date 50 dudes and bang very few of them.
No one would want to read that.
But a friend's death and my consequential mental breakdown?
That's an untapped ploy.
Anyway, what I'm getting at is that I mourn alone, but I will share this thing with you because it's been very pervasive and weird.
I've had a song stuck in my head since she passed, and I don't know why.
It's "Crazy" by K-Ci & Jojo.
I'm not making this up.
At first, it was just stuck in my head the way songs are stuck in your head.
You're driving or golfing or tuning out your grandmother, and suddenly you realize that you've been humming the song and you weren't even aware of it.
Now, however, it's becoming more continuous.
It looped through my head all day today.
I'm beginning to believe that it has a subconcious significance that I may never figure out.
Like, we were listening to it while having some stupid conversation about dying.
Or we used to sing it to each other into our hairbrushes and pretend we were famous or...something.
I listen to it when I feel like crying.
Sometimes I feel like crying anyway, and I listen to it because it's sort of catchy.