Jeremy Has Spoken

Raindrops

Sometimes, in the morning, it would rain as we ate breakfast. I would look out the window and think about each rain drop and how long it had taken to come from the Gulf to my breakfast table.
Each rain drop seemed to symbolize how isolated I was from the rest of the world.
After breakfast on those days, I would walk the compound and let the rain fall on my head and think about them as enemy bullets beating my brains into my spinal cord as I felt them, like blood, venture down my body and I would cry...I would cry...you know?
It doesn't rain often in the dessert, so that is where I would go to relax; out of the way of the palace and its confines. I would breath easier out there.
It would just be me and the thorazine. I would shoot up and go running out into the horizon screaming out old Bee Gee songs and scratching at my chest till I bled.
I would imagine I was a Viking running onto a coastal shore and I would make love to the sand as I writhed in withdrawals.
Back at home, I would say nothing about my travels. Father was very....uh....see no evil when it came to me. So, when I would come in twitching and shaking, bleeding from the chest down he would tell me that I was "a fine soldier" and move on to his daily duties.
When it would rain at night, I would imagine the rain as shrapnel coming from a mosque that had exploded near by. I would run out into the yard and praise Allah for showering me with the bits and pieces of his temple and the worshippers inside.
I would then return to my room and masturbate to Archie comics. I was young, very young at the time and I would paint myself in Technicolor and pretend I was Archie banging Veronca over the lion statues in the courtyard.
Then I'd play Zaxon and fall asleep....under the rain drops.

That has been another edition of Uday Hussein on....
Join us next week for more yucks and laughs!

For further reading on the history of Iraq:

http://www.mnftiu.cc/mnftiu.cc/fanblog1.html