To be anaesthetized. General anesthesia, I mean. I really love it. I still don’t know how to self-administer “a good shot”, lying unconscious for a long while. I have neither the knowledge nor the right logistics. I don’t know if I could do it by myself even if I did have the right chemical substance and a bachelor’s degree in anesthesiology.
I wouldn’t be able to breathe without help. I would need an artificial breathing machine. It’s a pity that the only way to enjoy that wonderful state of happiness is undergoing surgery. How unfair to be deprived of all possibility of enjoying that deep dream, that fleeting paradise during which you feel no pain and then you don’t remember anything at all!
I cannot imagine anything better worth doing at any time of the year. I adore to lose consciousness and feel no pain. What would I like to do on my holiday? Inhaling such blessed gases that makes you sleep after the intravenous injection. What a joy to breathe those anesthetic gases, how delightful when my lungs absorb them and they are guided through my bloodstream to my brain and spinal cord!
I never want to wake up from anesthesia. Why those fucking nurses insist on snatching that incomparable happiness away?
At the prospect of my summer holiday I can’t stop brooding on what I can do to get some surgery. Any surgery, just to enjoy that blissful interval of total disconnection.
“I’m going to completely disconnect myself from everything”. This overused cliché makes me puke: everybody repeats it constantly and they don’t even know what that verb means. But I do. I spend my time daydreaming about donating a kidney or even a lung, major surgery with an expected duration of at least one hour, I guess.
I must write down a list of totally expendable body organs and structures. I like minimalism in every aspect of my life, so why shouldn’t I apply it to the economy of body organs? Abundance always results in waste.
It’s so much easier to invent surgical interventions under local anesthesia, but I don’t want this. If you suffer from dental sensitivity you may have local anesthetic administered, but that doesn’t switch off my brain, which is what I like. That perfect moment when I sing to my head: “See you later alligator, after ‘while crocodile…” and it’s me who have the last word: I simply flip the switch to turn everything off and stay floating in oblivion for a little while.