My great grand-aunt had cataracts in one eye and it was all cloudy like one of those frosty marbles I used to collect in the fourth grade but that last time I saw her I was three. I was scared of her eye I recall. She would look at me and I would hide cause in that eye I saw scary stuff. We used to have bunnies as a kid. There were a lot of them all fluffy like bunnies tend to be. There was this big white one that I tried pulling out of its cage. I did by its legs. When I picked it up it went all insane (couldnt follow it down the rabbit hole.), and twisted to get away. It slashed my throat with its claw. I looked down and my shirt was all red and bloody. It sucked. My mom wanted to get rid of the bunnies after that but my dad said no. Later I went back and all the bunnies were dead. Ants had started to get to them already and the bunnies were eyeless and no longer fluffy. We never had bunnies after that. I always wanted to fly when I was small and I would go to the roof and look down and would be too scared to jump so I asked God to let me fly and I raised my little arms and hands to the sky and the sun was in my eyes. I didn’t fly and I screamed at the sky that I hated God. I was like five or six. That was actually one of the first sins I confessed to the bishop when I had my first communion. I was eight. After the mass we had a party in the countryside and a wall of huge stones collapsed on me. But I didn’t die cause I’m still here unless I did die and this is the afterlife I was condemned to which sucks cause shit still smells like shit and I still can’t fly. Eww I don’t like milk ice cream. No likey for me bikey. Dykey no likey. Dead people are cold and hard. At my grand-uncle's funeral I touched his face. It was saddy. Its sad when people are dead but its even sadder when you see people who should be dead but aren’t. When I was fourteen I went to México City with my grandmother. While we were there they had found my grandmas sister who and been lost for a long time. She had been beaten up by some petty thugs and ended up at this mental asylum in the outskirts of the city. These women were the unwanted: mentally retarded, physically handicapped or just plain old. It was like a huge brick warehouse surrounded by a yard and then a very high wall lined with razorwire, (the new jerusalem?). There were guards at the gate and we were padded down by them. It smelled not too nice there; Urine and feces mostly and the over all stench of delirium. The women wandered around the yard in white robes like ghosts: dirty soiled ghosts. This one lady showed me the pretty yellow sparrows she was feeding. I’m sure they were pretty indeed if only I could have seen them too. They took us finally to see my great-aunt Raquel. Her gaunt frame was bound by leather straps to her flimsy wire bed. She recognized no one and my grandmother tried not to cry cause she was so badass fishing marlins in her youth off the mexican coast. We left her there that day but my grandmother eventually had her moved to a proper hospital. Ladies in insane asylums are very kindly. They come up to you and touch you like you were their lost child. At times they cry. There was a woman with only one arm and burn scars that at one point ran up to me her eyes wide open and listless. But I wasn’t scared or anything not like the time I dreamed that I was standing in front of a table on it which was the bloody flayed body of a calf with the face of my mother. She raised her head with hollow eye sockets and murmured things. That indeed was scary. When I go to a buffet I stock up on Jell-O and ambrosia. At this one I go to once in a while they have all you can drink horchata. I love horchata. Whore-chata. Puta juice. Juicy juice. Jooze! Jews. Jews for Jesus. Hey-Zeus. Real mean guys. Real men love Jesus and Jesus loves real men.
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