Book 3

Book Three of Confessions of a Diarrhetic, also known as Holistic Voodoo Magic


john_martin_apocolypse
“You shit yourself today.” The terrifying figure crouched next to me, his skin pale, his eyes red. “Just a little.” The cave was dark, lit from outside by a world gone mad. “You shouldn’t have eaten at KFC.” “I know.” I’d been paying for it all day, fearsome gurgles ripping […]

Level 1: Apocalypse


This little baby might look official, but it is literally worthless. You can't use it to get into a medicinal dispensary and no one anywhere will accept it as a valid form of identification. Why would anyone take the time to make one of these for each of their customers? I don't know. Pot heads are a special breed.
We awoke. It was the frightful morning after. “What happened?” Asked Nega Nate, holding his head gingerly. “I don’t know. Whatever you put in that fire sent us spinning. I remember laughing.” I looked out at the world beyond the cave. The storm had stopped. A huge, amorphous column rose […]

Level 2: Marijuana



Give me Bowie or the Velvet Underground, any day.
Even after I started eating marijuana, I didn’t get much sleep. I’d go to bed around midnight and wake up at dawn. Most mornings I’d slice a plate of fruit and wander out onto the stoop where I’d eat and watch the early risers on their way to work. Ed […]

Level 3: Ed


My Von Miller paper doll with removable glasses and optional arm with a cast on it.
Even before Robbie came home, he was weirded out. I’d been answering his messages with cryptic notes chock full of Lord of the Rings references. I kept calling him Sam, telling him he’d saved me from the Dark Lord. Then I showed up to the airport wearing a wig. I […]

Level 4: Robbie



I went to school from kindergarten through senior high with Tara's older sister. It was awesome to discover someone from the neighborhood had made it to such a big stage and strange to find out the information from Robbie.
Under the influence of prednisone and marijuana cake, my business acumen hit an all time low. I knew I needed a website, but what url to use? Confessionsofadiarrhetic.com was an obvious choice, but it was long and no one knew how to spell diarrhetic. My morning dose of prednisone had been particularly […]

Level 5: Chron’s Walk


This is my uncle, David Dvirnak. I lovingly refer to him as Agent Snuffleupagus. Stay tuned, I can't wait to tell you why.
The phone rang. It was my crazy uncle, David, “Are you sitting down?” “No.” “Sit down.” “OK.” His voice was manic and forceful, the same way mine had become. Defiantly, I remained standing, “You’re sitting down?” “Yes.” “You promise?” “I swear.” He took a heavy breath, exhaling into the receiver,”Brett’s dead.” […]

Level 6: A Home For Unfortunate Women



I originally thought I was going to write an entire book about my trip to New York. It was going to be called 'Emily' but I'm no longer on prednisone so I no longer have the energy to write multiple chapters about individual days. Prednisone is like Popeye spinach for writer's.
“You need to look at this,” said Nega Nate. The world had collapsed, or possibly imploded. Reality was twisting in on itself. All that remained was the cave. Nega Nate stood near the entrance, staring out at an infinite series of shattered landscapes, each piece floating within a different, elastic bubble. I […]

Level 7: Emily


This is what it looked like in Central Park on the day my sister and I visited. On that same trip we attended a Chuck Close exhibit. The painter's work hit me on such a deep level that I changed my major and got a Bachelor of Fine Arts. That's why I'm a Chronal bastard with no health insurance. Thanks, Chuck!
Our bodies melted, one into the other, that familiar, secret dance. My scrawny, naked limbs were tan and unimpressive, a fragile out-patient, more bone and teeth than meat. Emily, by comparison, was an amazon with full breasts and a woman’s hips. Our love scene was far from the Hollywood ideal. Still, there was something comfortable about the pairing, a […]

Level 8: A Love Like Any Other



This is what the stage looked like with its wall-instead-of-a-curtain.
Emily’s lightsaber weed didn’t put me to sleep. I lay there, awake and restless, thinking about everything and nothing. The weaning process was over. This would be my first day without prednisone. The drug still seeped through my system, keeping my eyes open and my mind awake, but soon it would be […]

Level 9: Fortune Teller Miracle Fish


Ms. Morrow at her finest.
After the improv show, I couldn’t fall asleep. It had been more than 24 hours since my last dose of prednisone, but the drug was alive and well, buried in marrow and fatty tissue, seeping into my consciousness, controlling my thoughts. I slid out from under Emily and passed the […]

Level 10: The Book of Mormon



This is a single drop of ocean water under magnification. There are would's within our world, and ecosystems in the guts of each of the creatures in this image. How deep it goes is anyone's guess. Is our universe a raindrop inside an infinite, black cloud? Is the multiverse so large even God is tiny and inconsequential?
The day after we saw The Book of Mormon, Emily and I packed a bunch of beach stuff and headed to Central Station. My insides were jittery and fragile, bouncing around, wondering what had happened to the prednisone they’d come to know and love. I headed to the bathroom for a preemptive shit, […]

Level 11: Montauk


Emily and I spent one more day together. It was unexceptional, but there was a poignant moment. It came in the evening as night fell. “What are you doing?” Asked Emily. She was making biscuits and gravy, a delightful smell wafting through the air. “Sitting on the floor while you make […]

Level 12: Homecoming



Poor Marcus. What a bad day.
Marcus came to town, with his giant eyes and impossible laugh, with his iron legs and golden smile. He stood on my stoop, bag in hand, perplexed and imposing, an elephant, lost in the city. I imagined him thundering through the streets of Iraq, equipped with guns and armor, a terrifying behemoth, flanked […]

Level 13: Marcus’ Bad Day


This is my sister's husband, Chris, building Something Useful out of Wood. He's supposed to be a Magic card, but my computer crashed twice and I'm waiting to get the files off the old hard drive.
I was driving south on Broadway, sweating and shaking, arguing with myself. The Baby Hannah’s birthday painting was in the back seat. It needed a mat, but first I had to get past Griff’s. Griff’s was the best burger joint in town. From the outside, it didn’t look like much, just […]

Level 14: The Baby Hannah



Little Ex No. 2 is also a ballerina and has the same name as Little Ex. How's that for history repeating?
A few weeks after returning from North Dakota, Derek invited me to sushi. It was his birthday and he wanted to spend it with friends. Everyone was there, laughing and drinking in a hip restaurant downtown. Trendy music played on hidden speakers and the waitresses were dressed in black. “So what […]

Level 15: The End Begins