Tuesday, February 2, 2010


it's 6:43. 6:41 on my second clock. Mums making Stir-fry with mushrooms. Odd combo. Turned off already. I'm looking out the window. Birds chirping. Sun is shining. Feels like the middle of the afternoon. Hot air, muggy breaths. Heat fills up my room mocking me by not leaving through the open windows. Talking to my friends on facebook as a distraction. One broke his wrist. Ouch. TV's on in the background. Father's on his ass. Nothing new. Clothes on my floor need to be put away. Procrastinate. Filled out my forms to get a job today, I need the money. Flashback to him. I need the money to go back to Randolph in June. Highlight of going back? Friends, homey, graduation. Him. Crazy, confused, pathetic me. Still after what I can't and will never have. Rustle of peanut bag in the hallway distracts me. Bloody bugs, they'll be the death of me. Scramble to kill it before it suck blood from my body. Uncomfortable now. Feels like there are bugs everywhere. Paranoia. Dads business is going under. After all that we're screwed. Definitely no god. 6:49. Dinner call. Eating in my room tonight. Not feeling too sociable. I again turn to the window and glance out. Another call from the kitchen. Yes. I sit a little longer. Enjoying the sound of my fingers on the keys. The light tapping like a dance solo in my head. The feet repeating the same rhythm in time to the cicadas and birds tunes outside. Uncomfortable feeling in my body. Go drown myself in grease and oil covered vegetables. Hopefully not to many clogged arteries so I can write again. No promises. 6:52. Finally depart.

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