Day 6:Tripping

5:00pm

Riding the digital, tracking down information. My fingers aching from the motions, my eyes bleeding in the real. 16 hours of digital, my tongue is dry. Pulling out the cord, after pushing log off.

Aint' nothing but a dumb thang ya know, too long in with my weak ass body. Able to stand, running for the bathroom vomit and blood mixed into that dirty bowl, as I slide to my knees, praying for it to stop.

As I lie there, that nurse is coming in, yanking me up roughly. Washing me in the shower, cold, with the intent to get me ready, not with any joy. She throws me a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, boxers. Leaving my naked skinny, bone showing ass standing there, I have become a non-object, just something for them to get paid on.

As I dress slowly, my eyes throbbing, too much in the old grey mass with that feeling of too much info. I grab a pair of shades, expensive, smart shades. Lying on my nightstand, blood is flakes coming off the lens, but easy enough to clean. Rubbing alcohol and this bloodstained cloth in the corner does fucking wonders.

As I place them over my eyes, plugging them into the jack. As they adjust to my eyes, the world is blurred, the display starts to align with my bio readings, and I see the issues.

I'm fucking weak now, too much candy, too much rest, not enough working out. I need to get fucking going. I need to move. Get the blood pumping, as I walk forward everything tilting, as the mail comes in with my right eye I select to read it.

Got the Crew. Meeting Sunday.

One simple line is that I got 5 days to get myself going, moving, and I need to stay in and deep. The deepest level means your body has to be healthy. Aint's doing that today, I need to run, and I need to fly, work out.

I run a search using my glasses, searching for the nearest gym. Two of em rundown shitty, the place ya get jumped. Franchise mother fucker not far, I'll pick this one. As I scan it noticing, I can use any of em, if I pay them something dumb, but a deal is going the fuck on. Signing up, using my credit chipper.

I steady myself, deep breath. Pain will be coming now, but it's needed!

I start to run, coughing up black tar from the black death, but I push myself through these quiet dead halls. Running, running, running, I pass the doc and the nurse sharing a cadaver. It seems this is a bad place. Bloodstained teeth, blood dripping from their maws. Fucking cannibals. They call themselves the ghouls, or the ghoulies ain't good to fuck with me, they wave at me. I wave back. Manners save us from being the savages.

Blood leaking from my nose, the first time I have been pushing myself like this in a long time. Shocking enough runners do minimal fucking running. It draws the eye. But us deckers, do it all leaping buildings, climbing, all sorts of wild fucking shit. It's good to move, to have a purpose again.

Aint' long before I'm at the gym scanning in with a wicked feeling of burning lungs, puked four times on the run. Now moving to the weights, no fucking pain, no fucking gain, no fucking riding the info lines. Now, I'm logging the fuck out, kill myself, working myself to death. Heading home, to clean my flat. Fucking aint' been there in two months. I hope it's still standing.

End of log