my room is supported by tons of concrete, metal, a bit of wood and insulation. In my chamber, theres an odious and embarassing dispaly of empty bottles, beer and wine bottles... casino bycycle cards for good measure, untouched pringles... and varios other comforts and pleasures.
Adjacent to the counter stands an enormous concrete support beam, almost invisible with its cream stucco finish. almost a place to put your hand while you are stretching, instead.
My back feels stiff beaucause I danced too much, and what I really want is to feel something so comulsurary and veiny and terrible that I feel lucid with liberyy and pride. These kinds of feelings, one has to look for them. They aren't on the streets, there in some sort of sweat dream found when fixing something in the microwave or standing in the correct corner of the space, turniing on the floor lamp just so.
I need to find it. I must find it...
