Jan 2013
I awoke, it was 5 AM or some such ridiculous number
and there are definitely at least two types of people in this world
morning people, and people who like to sleep in the morning
but I am trying to forget him
a feeling I have, this isn't even going to be anything
not a passing friendship, I think he decided yesterday
because I am what I am and I'm glad the Netherlands outlawed mink farms
and he likes to dissect them and I can't, I read a book today and it says
you can't be who you aren't just to please someone else and I love
animals and hate those who persecute them and I find myself
on the freeway, in the dark, practically a traffic jam of morning people
and then streets filled with them like they think it's noon
and I arrive at a steaming factory where it looks like people are being
boiled alive there is so much steam and human arms rising out of the water and back again
like they are struggling to the surface, only to be pulled back down and boiled
waving for help and no one helps.
It's 6:05 when I finally get to split a lane with someone I can barely see because
human figures dissapear 25 meters away in what now looks like dense fog and
the coach smiles at me, like he sees I'm crazy too
Rush hour, underwater is clear, but who called this strange meeting of people in water?
A stressed, crowded swim and I'm back to the silent phone with ice toes that might
break off so I take drink and begin to sweat
And I deleted all the numbers last night but there was a text so
I look and there it is, and I only look at the area code because I can't
memorize that number. That is death. You can't escape then.
And by mid morning I've called again and there is no answer
and by mid afternoon I remember to delete all numbers and I missed one
call from a collector, but he hasn't called back and I've been rejected
by someone I don't even like and somehow it makes it worse
because I had planned to tell him I didn't want to see him
that I wasn't sure about this, day trips, all that when I've never
ever had a conversation with him I've enjoyed.
And I sit at my desk, because by God, I must do work now and
desks make you do more work and I don't want to leave the house
because I'll spend money and there is no money and my big giant
grey and white cat takes up at least half the desk.
And the phone is silent
And I do some work
And look up silly things like how you get a stallion to ******* into a device
and it's actually pretty easy.
And a married Polish composer starts chatting with me on Facebook
and so I get off.
and there are definitely at least two types of people in this world
morning people, and people who like to sleep in the morning
but I am trying to forget him
a feeling I have, this isn't even going to be anything
not a passing friendship, I think he decided yesterday
because I am what I am and I'm glad the Netherlands outlawed mink farms
and he likes to dissect them and I can't, I read a book today and it says
you can't be who you aren't just to please someone else and I love
animals and hate those who persecute them and I find myself
on the freeway, in the dark, practically a traffic jam of morning people
and then streets filled with them like they think it's noon
and I arrive at a steaming factory where it looks like people are being
boiled alive there is so much steam and human arms rising out of the water and back again
like they are struggling to the surface, only to be pulled back down and boiled
waving for help and no one helps.
It's 6:05 when I finally get to split a lane with someone I can barely see because
human figures dissapear 25 meters away in what now looks like dense fog and
the coach smiles at me, like he sees I'm crazy too
Rush hour, underwater is clear, but who called this strange meeting of people in water?
A stressed, crowded swim and I'm back to the silent phone with ice toes that might
break off so I take drink and begin to sweat
And I deleted all the numbers last night but there was a text so
I look and there it is, and I only look at the area code because I can't
memorize that number. That is death. You can't escape then.
And by mid morning I've called again and there is no answer
and by mid afternoon I remember to delete all numbers and I missed one
call from a collector, but he hasn't called back and I've been rejected
by someone I don't even like and somehow it makes it worse
because I had planned to tell him I didn't want to see him
that I wasn't sure about this, day trips, all that when I've never
ever had a conversation with him I've enjoyed.
And I sit at my desk, because by God, I must do work now and
desks make you do more work and I don't want to leave the house
because I'll spend money and there is no money and my big giant
grey and white cat takes up at least half the desk.
And the phone is silent
And I do some work
And look up silly things like how you get a stallion to ******* into a device
and it's actually pretty easy.
And a married Polish composer starts chatting with me on Facebook
and so I get off.
