Waiting for a doctor`s appointment.

Amsterdam,

So there I am, back in my old house, my dirty and covered in cow manure farm clothes still covering my unwashed body. I should take a hot shower, have a shave and put on fresh clothes for my hospital appointment at 15.30 h. But iunstead I find myself in this crappy old house I have lived in since returning to Holland in 1995, smelly and trembling, too lazy to even get up from my chair....the effects of my latest Mary-Jane addiction strong and demanding...a quick walk to the neighborhood`s coffeeshop would take care of my addiction needs...no more bodily shivers but big disappointment of having given inn to green colored mental inducement to laziness.

However, the idea of having to face my doctor stoned out of my mind does not appeal to me. No way to hide my mental trip...my enlarged eye balls will be a dead give away and anyway, are doktors not trained to see "certain things"!!!

Not that I should have any reason to complain. I mean the society I live in takes care of the bills, the bills that keep me alive, the expensive medical care my ravished physic needs to keep going in the here and now...my only payback to Dutch society, a few half days of hard work at the animal farm for children, hard and honest ARBEIT to ensure my rights for the Dutch dole...

Fair enough, square and fair...a few difficult hours without the mind dulling effects of expensive grass, green stained marijuana pods promising paradise on earth, though in truth only inside my european skull.