Apr 11, 2009

Drunj is coming.


1) What I meant was, he's got this huge scar, but it doesn't define him; runs the length and breadth of his face but he doesn't consider it an incision. Foreign to him. Moronic to think that way about a life-defining accident, but moronic of me to define any one life, no matter the cost of anything these days.

2) Ah, the stench of desperation hangs in the air like burnt bread. Hands on the wheel, white-knuckled, ten-two positioning and slightly veering left every now and again. Gotta get that alignment fixed at some point. On your way to the bar, and planning to drive drunk as a shitbird back. Getting self-destructive at your young age, it seems. Let's ruin prospective-- let's ruin potential. Irregular rhythms are the way of the new world, so let's scratch erratic backs. That's right. The continual pull of the immaculate ocean at your back, you are going to clean up tonight. Clean 'em up.

3) My life is a series of minor disappointments. It's all so unacceptable some days. I tie my shoes in triple knots so that I don't have to tie them anymore. I have some character flaws. I am prone to sitting on certain sides of the cab so I don't have to open the door, I can just slide out with minimal effort. I have some diagnostic-check work to do soon. I am willing to accept you for short, periodic bursts. Yeah, I am quixotic but never quirky. The means to get home aren't often in the back pockets of my jeans, but tonight it just might work. I've been known to sleep on floors rather than on my bed as a form of punishment. I administer my own punishments, including recently. Tonight, I found out exactly what I knew and decided not to acknowledge the realistic views of my surrounding support group. Another tragedy, set to continuous hit music.

4) Got high as a truckwhistle and birdmouth drunk and found a few bucks laying around, so let's do brunch in the morning. Yessir.

5) Good morning class, let's just be really quiet for an hour. It's so fucking loud out there today. Trucks, horns, wind and sirens., All a combination of dereliction. Let's protect ourselves. Quiet in the back, please and sit down. Godalmighty, it's so rainy this week.

6) I sought the heart of the only breathing monster; to rip that visage would be to slick back one's hair with blood. Got high instead and watch golf. What fresh hell did you deliver this week? Reverse, time, reverse. I will have betrayed you by betrothing you to my devices. I will void you as you pass. Got a dentist appointment, but I hate having to worry so much about it. I will slay the most honest of monsters. I will consort with the fondest of enemies and I will always make the right decisions regarding my time from mow on, you bet on that.

7) The sun is out, and the whole day wasn't ruined after all. Oops, typo, I meant runnied.

8) Yes and, every now and again, the most lovely days happen upon me. I got high all day with my buddy and watched golf. Somewhere in there, I wondered about the nature of the couch on which I was sleeping. Was it the most comfortable couch? Absolutely not, no. In fact, it was a bit short for me, to be sure. It did, however, seem to grasp me and force my eyes shut. Sometimes, that is the only way to sleep. Stayed up all night watching things, thinking about the invariability of circumstance. I will do that, you know. You gotta keep an eye on me, you do.

9) Corn-eating bastard. That's all I got on that one.

10) Shine on, little lights. Expand until you no longer illuminate. Sully on, little children. Construct walls until you no longer ruminate. Carve on, little knife. Cut until you can no longer lacerate. Run on, little sentence. Continue until you can no longer exacerbate. Tie one on, little man. Drink until you can no longer contemplate. Implore on, little argument. Follow along until you can no longer debate. Press on, little machines. Pump on until you can no longer oscillate. Punch on, little bully. Strike fear, until you can longer intimidate. Fill up, little motel. Keep accepting until you can no longer accommodate. Swallow on, little bird. Eat until you can no longer gestate. Play on, little band. Sing on until you can no longer create. Press on, little talker. Go on until you can no longer elucidate. Keep on, little hammer. Smash until you can no longer defenestrate. Keep on, little dog. Hump until you can no longer copulate. Keep telling them, little writer. Write until one day they understand the point you understate. They will, it's all so desperate but they will. They have to. It's everyone against the dregs. Keep on.

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