we’re on our own out here, not a friend in sight. guess you could count the relatives, but I cannot relate to them, and don’t see much of them anyway. you must pick a mountain for a friend and talk to it. oh dead centipede, how do you feel now after my cat has found you laying there on the floor and ripped you to pieces?
the doorstop does its job. everyone will come out of the woodworks to see the next Star Wars movie. I haul my jug of water up the stairs like one of my weights. my whole self needs more than water and air. the whole self needs inspiration, strength of mind, confidence, a spiritual poverty. it needs friendship. the need to overcome obstacles. the need to self analyze. and much more. I don’t want to focus on just one thing that makes me angry in the world. I let go of it and let it sort of loom in the background and start reaching for other things. things I can do. jog in place, young man. climb stairs, young person, you gladiator. solve a mystery. I am not the one going around knocking off the big metal mailboxes. I’m not that guy. let’s play hangman. it is easy. let us play that game of red and black checkers. pretend we’re in another country, somewhere undiscovered, you and I friends, good friends, the kind of friends not likely to start up a petty argument – but these mature fellows. we learn how to build houses and study history and all the mistakes made and make right choices on our own, no government breathing down our backs. and we write these interesting books.
this guy. I don’t trust this guy. but you don’t even know him. well, he talks too much. I say, don’t fault him for that, my goodness. so he talks too much. things could be much worse. really, if you brought it up to him, don’t you think in turn he could find something wrong with you? do you really think it would be that hard?
this girl slaughters this other girl. it’s just a matter of time. I don’t know what it is. I turn on “reality tv” and the women living together in this new situation start turning on each other within the first 24 hours, ready to kill each other by the time it’s over. the men seem to be a little more chilled out, sleeping out in the bushes somewhere, or something. what’s in their water? competition is high. as long as competition is high, we cannot respect each other. we’ll always be ready to kill.
my cat always looks so comfortable and peaceful sleeping curled up in a ball like that. he always makes sleeping look so awesome. he can pick anywhere in the house and it’s always the same. sleeping like eating ice cream. sleeping like you called into work sick and you hang up the phone and just crash. a baby’s sleep.
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