Goddamn, It's Deafening
That post about perogies was like deja vu.
The little dog woke me up at 4am this morning and I wasn't able to fall back asleep afterwards, due to my brain immediately shifting into overdrive. I was consumed by numbers, calculations, anger, anxiety and wondering what the weather in Greece is like in February. I lay with my eyes wide open staring at the dark ceiling until quarter past six when my alarm told me it was time to start moving.
"You look really intense today, Jimmy," she told me. (She's a fraud, she's only Superman's girl.)
The two month stint at the factory has left me with a chunk of money, countless skinned knuckles and a bitter hatred for the place. I have always appreciated the pursuit of education and now I miss that arena daily. Tieing rebar and raking concrete just isn't a career goal for me. Every beast to his own burden, I suppose.
I like to wash the dishes after dinner because it cleans out the little cuts that cover my hands.
There's this swirling mass of indecision hovering nearby and I don't know what to do with it. Plans keep shifting and I keep telling myself that once I'm there it will all make sense. I envision trenchcoats and rainy nights and romantic entrances but the more bullshit fantasies I deliver, the more this freight ship is being driven into the fog. God, I hate those Sirens.
"Not too many people call me Jimmy," I told her, "And you can keep your paradise to yourself."
"Because it's really not that beautiful anyway?"
"That's correct."
I turn up my music to drown out the barking.
The little dog woke me up at 4am this morning and I wasn't able to fall back asleep afterwards, due to my brain immediately shifting into overdrive. I was consumed by numbers, calculations, anger, anxiety and wondering what the weather in Greece is like in February. I lay with my eyes wide open staring at the dark ceiling until quarter past six when my alarm told me it was time to start moving.
"You look really intense today, Jimmy," she told me. (She's a fraud, she's only Superman's girl.)
The two month stint at the factory has left me with a chunk of money, countless skinned knuckles and a bitter hatred for the place. I have always appreciated the pursuit of education and now I miss that arena daily. Tieing rebar and raking concrete just isn't a career goal for me. Every beast to his own burden, I suppose.
I like to wash the dishes after dinner because it cleans out the little cuts that cover my hands.
There's this swirling mass of indecision hovering nearby and I don't know what to do with it. Plans keep shifting and I keep telling myself that once I'm there it will all make sense. I envision trenchcoats and rainy nights and romantic entrances but the more bullshit fantasies I deliver, the more this freight ship is being driven into the fog. God, I hate those Sirens.
"Not too many people call me Jimmy," I told her, "And you can keep your paradise to yourself."
"Because it's really not that beautiful anyway?"
"That's correct."
I turn up my music to drown out the barking.
posted by James at 9:56 PM
4 Books were burned:
LOL. So predictable, like I said.
Before I read the comments, I was about to say 'Everything you say is profound.'.
You never fail to impress.
Trench coats, rainy night, romantic entrances...
Looks like you n' me are riding the very same freight into the very same fog.
interesting entry, truly.
"jimmy"? hmm...[obviously] i can't say that i know you all that well, but it just doesn't seem to fit you.
Throw one on the pile
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