It is two in the morning and I am once again

TRAPPED INSIDE THE NIGHTMARE DIMENSION

. . . trapped inside a passenger train beneath godless 30th Street Station in downtown Philadelphia! We poor souls have not budged one cock-sucking millimeter since arriving here at midnight from Baltimore, and no one seems to know why. According to the train schedule, what will end up being a three and a half hour break here in Philly is simply the way the Northeast Regional 66 operates. Why can’t we just go? I am headed to New York City, a mere 85 miles and an hour and a half away by rail, but the train is in hibernation in this enormous labyrinthine sarcophagus for No Reason, and I have yet to bear witness to even a single shred of brotherly love . . .

At this point I have been awake for over 36 hours, having left Seattle at 3:30 am yesterday, a day that has not yet ended for me . . . I flew to Denver for an hour, then onward to my satellite office outside Washington, DC to drop off a few things and collect my winter gear, otherwise I’d be freezing my ass off in New York the next few days. I was only there for about three hours before I had to board this godforsaken train, and now it’s looking like it will be the last thing I ever do. About an hour ago a completely empty passenger train pulled up alongside us on the adjacent track . . . from behind malfunctioning eyes I gazed darkly into its eerie innards, and felt a cold spectral hand upon my shoulder . . . had I glimpsed a phantom train bound for The Other World . . . ?

I stood up and stretched my legs. The few remaining passengers in the car were asleep in the dimly lit cabin. I had no such luck falling asleep, and anyway I had some writing to do . . . so I exited the car and took the escalator upstairs into the station to see if I could buy a cup of coffee somewhere on account of the dining car’s being closed. At the top I found a dozen or so construction workers and about as many cops. The entire station was festooned in scaffolding and orange cones and artificial boundaries . . . there is practically nothing to do up there other than listen to some guys drill holes in the wall. What a drag. Still, I did see this:

Hey, far out . . .

And after putzing around the station a little, I did manage to find the worst possible place to get coffee:

This particular DUNKIN’ DONUTS has one of the lowest ratings I have ever seen . . . just my luck! Some of the reviews are even downright weird and disturbing.

UH, ANYWAY . . .

After drinking a piss-warm coffee that tasted as if it were made using manure from the cretaceous period of Earth’s history, I dug into my bag and retrieved my toothbrush and some toothpaste in a vain attempt to save my teeth. Now I’m back in my seat on the left side of the car and a creepy old woman who looks like an omen of death has been pacing up and down the aisle for about thirty minutes now. Each time she passes, she gives me this look of utter doom. Quite frankly I find it rude! Is this person real or merely some sinister thing I have imagined? I wonder. At this very moment, the truth makes no difference to me as long as I can make it to New York without being ferried to the underworld. Unless New York itself is . . .

Have I finally lost it, just like they all said I would, or are we really moving now? Sure as hell, Philadelphia is whipping past us on both sides as we tunnel further into the darkness of northeastern Pennsylvania bound for Penn Station in Manhattan. I just looked at the clock and it’s

3:33 am

for God’s sake! which is a sort of holy number if you think about it, and also the exact same time my plane touched down in DC earlier, albeit in its afternoon form. It is ALSO the favorite number of the Very Special Person I have happily endured this endless day to see. But not yet . . . I still have to survive this accursed vessel and take, with much desperation, the long subway journey from Penn Station to Bed-Stuy to get to a BED in the uppermost floor of Nora’s brownstone, where I stayed back in September when this whole crazy thing began, so quaint to think about now . . .

My life is so different now than it was when I last laid my precious little head upon that pillow and dreamed the dreams of little angels . . . different in a thousand little ways that I could not possibly muster the mental capacity to quantify right now for all the whiskey in Ireland! Such is the sorry state of myself. Still, I must get to that bed just the same, or else I’m in big trouble. I need a solid eight or nine hours up in that cute little room to Rest and Heal. When I finally emerge past noon, I’ll have regained my natural fortitude to punch through concrete and lasso the moon.

Speaking of which, tonight is a New Moon, which feels auspicious. And it ought to be, because this Very Special Person (it’s Callan (lol)) and I are seeing WAITING FOR GODOT on Broadway tomorrow night . . . starring spirit-brothers Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter, whose eternal friendship I have loved and admired since my earliest childhood.

Apparently I took this picture about a half hour before I met Callan for the first time, which is wild to think about. Whoa . . .

Callan has somehow never seen BILL & TED’S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE, so we’re going to watch it tonight. I mean, we got to, right? . . .

The train is going about a hundred and eighty miles per hour now . . . at this rate we’ll be crash-landing into the bowels of the station any minute now. I have to imagine we’re somewhere in New Jersey . . . where else?? Lord, this conductor is a real madman, bless him. Impressed though I am with the wildness of his ways, it is perhaps best that he carry on in anonymity. After all, what if I approached the door only to find this insane freak howling at the wheel:

That’s the last thing I need right now!

. . . a disembodied voice has just announced we are arriving in Newark, so I suppose I wasn’t far off. Jesus, it’s been a long day. I’m glad it hasn’t killed me yet. It can’t . . . I won’t let it. I have got a strong feeling inside me that makes me impervious to most mortal deaths—a feeling which begins with Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter and then flourishes into something greater still. What else is there???

I find myself once again in a sort of dreamland in which I only occasionally participate, but mostly observe. It’s been a lot of fun to look at. And now I see the lights of New York City glittering in the darkness outside my window, all of it looking real enough, and the whole place ready to swallow me whole. To which I say: do it! you sons of bitches!! Yes!!!

☆彡

(P.S. The photo at the top, with the ducks floating silently in the water beside a wintry forest and beneath a dark pearlescent sky . . . I took that earlier tonight on my way to get supplies for the train. To the left of this photo is the very hospital where I was born. It was quite beautiful to behold is all I wanted to say. Isn’t it nice? . . .)