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An interesting little crossroads, this. Here it is, my last night at work, and my next move would be south... to what has been my home. Were it not for all of my clothes being there, as well as all of the bills (in my name), I'd choose a different direction. It's all building into serious literary/creative constipation. Yesterday, I kept fighting with the SimpleText. A paragraph here, a sentence or two there... they'd all wind up being deleted, until I just said, "fuck it." It's like the clich�, "if you dont have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." I can be very good at that. To the extreme. I'd like to think I'd grown past that, though. Instead of coherent lines of thought, these stupid little scenarios keep tripping me up. During our entrapment in traffic, on Saturday, Miss Jane did her usual panic attack... which rears its ugly head whenever we can't move. She must roll the window down for air, gets teary eyed, and starts to hyperventilate. Not fifteen minutes later, alongside creeps an SUV emblazoned with lettering, advertising (I shit you not) DJMini-Me.com. A country music DJ. Fucked Up/Absurd. They happen in pairs. Last night, in an effort to get something on the fotolog, I stopped in the crossover in front of the mega-MCI campus across the road... sighting an interesting convergence of streetlights. I shot a few, then came back to work to check out the images. Corrupt, all three. Everything else was fine, I reset the program and fired off a few more... they were fine, too. Cosmic conspiracy, or is there a rational explanation? There is no escape. Weirdness abounds. And now, I'm two hours away from returning to the scene of the crime... watching the clock like a condemned prisoner. Any other Wednesday, the adrenaline is as thick as syrup in my veins... anticipating/inciting release. It's not happening. And this will be a five-day weekend. Anniversary, three weeks away. ...and there is no love in my heart, only numbness. I suppose I could pay the last of the bills, and take the remains and find something to put in my lungs or my sinuses, and find escape... but I don't think I want that noose to get any tighter. Which noose to chose? |
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