Beethoven’s Ninth
A freshly bathed and Prinocate-d dog sleeping on my feet
A stellar Mike Ehrmantraut monologue
Booking the open day for a third year in a row
The first time almost not going thinking I’d feel out of place
Going at the last minute
To find I’d found home
The second time not going
For fear of the pain of perceiving my dad’s disapproval
As at that time I’d planned on taking him
But ended up wimping out
This third time
My dad no longer here
But grateful my mum is here
Hoping we can go
I’ve put in a wheelchair request for her
I’ve put in my hoped for entry year
Years from now
Because I’d take so long to meet the entry requirements
Not having been brought up with any musical training
But my mum believes in me
I want to learn
As though learning
Could make up for all this loss I’ve had
I didn’t let myself rewatch Breaking Bad in all those years after the accident
I’d classed it as belonging to The Time Before The Accident
I only let myself rewatch it when I thought things were closing in on me this year
And for some reason
Fate timed the rewatch such that
It was only because my dog survived his bronchoscopy
That Hank ever got round to reading that book on the toilet
As it just so happened
That there was where we’d left off
Before we’d went
For the procedures
It was exactly
Just before
Hank went to the toilet
Now I am re-re-watching it
And thinking I should’ve let myself rewatch it after the accident
As so much of it applies to what I went through
Maybe it could’ve helped me
It has at least been reassuring to find
That the series hasn’t
For all this time
Diminished in my eyes
Except for the majority of its final season
But that part
About getting what one deserves
I keep trying to tell myself these days
That however horrible things are
I must deserve it
Because if I could make myself truly believe that
It would hurt less
But for now
I want to learn
And I am grateful
To be in my home
With my dog sleeping on my feet
Listening to Mike Ehrmantraut
Knowing my mum is yet here
And knowing that therefore
There is yet a chance
I could help her improve her health
I hate that click I so often hear these days
From my dog’s throat
That click that reminds me that
All is hopeless
It’s like that death clock
From King’s ‘Insomnia’
But in this moment
I can’t hear that death clock tick
He’s sleeping soundly
Blissfully unaware of his collapsing trachea
And in this moment
I want to learn
And plan
Now would be
The perfect moment
To have a piano dropped
On the heads of my dog and I
But of course
My typing has now awoken him
He’s left the bed
To curl up in a quieter corner
I knew that would happen
I put off writing for as long as I could
But in the end I couldn’t resist
I’d had this dumb smile on my face for so long
After so long
That I typed up this feeling
As I so wanted to record
Its underserved wonderfulness
I am grateful
Thank you
LYNA GALLIARA 