It's been so long since I've seen my own blood in any significant quantity that I've pretty much forgotten what it feels like and looks like and tastes like. When I got a nosebleed just now (from banging my nose against a bathroom doorframe accidentally) the blood on the white tiles of the bathroom seemed like a movie prop. Like it was too real. Too much like real blood to be real blood. Absurd.
And it seemed to come out in ridiculous quantities, too. I used up reams of paper getting it to dry, and it just kept pouring out, getting on everything, dripping into my mouth, through my beard, getting everywhere. It looked like I killed someone out there before I finished.
In the middle of it all, I saw for the first time my no.1. candidate for best bathroom grafitti in the University so far:
"If you're alone right now, why not just start singing?"
So I did. I sang "I get a kick out of you." I'm glad noone came in and wondered who kicked me. Or even worse, heard the part that goes:
some they may go for cocaine
i’m sure that if, I took even one sniff
it would bore me terrifically too
but I get a kick out of you.