curbdrop out of grace

Corporate Zombies

I woke up this morning feel ill. It wasn't the normal illness that overcomes once realizing that I am no longer allowed to lay in bed, rubbing toes and inching towards ecstasy. It was the sort of illness that comes from making out with an asstray.

At first I didn't notice but as I stood huddled underneith the showerhead, warmth flowing in the shape of gravity, I realized something wasn't right.

When I got out it was far worse. Sidenote, one of my biggest pet peeves in life: being rushed out of the comfort of a hot shower.

I gathered some clothes off my floor and walked into the living room. The place a grave of a pizza party the nite before. The smells of rotting cheese which in itself is rot didn't hurt. I was already badly wounded.

I put on my snowboarding coat. I put on my winter hat. I walked back to the bathroom to look at myself. I looked like a kid who had just come in from a streetfight. My nose was flushed with blood, although temporarily contained within.

I walked down the hall which always reminds me of the Shining.

Open
Step in
Button
Close
Open
Step Out
and so on.

I stepped outside and felt my desire freeze with my nostrals. Man. I hate my job yet I'm willing to walk in Siberia for a fucking bus to take me to a 12-hour session, trying my patience. Soon I will quit. Or else soon I will die.

And I walk in, flip on my laptop and sweep papers out of the way. Finally I find some tissue paper. And I blow like a sperm whale.

Boom goes the dynomite.

Work passes. There's nothing much to say except it was my typical anger taking over my body. There was much cursing. There was much fist pumping but not in celebration of rock n roll.

Suddenly it's 7:30pm and I decide it's time to leave. I don't feel well. My eyes burn like an STD. My fingers are sore like a finger puppeteer. I am ready to go [home].

I wait for a train this time. I sit next to a van who sweats nicotine. I close my eyes and slide into my music. I drift until I get up to leave. And I step outside and the cold hits me. Bitter. So bitter.

I begin the walk towards home, stopping in to a Jamba Juice to get a smoothie. It's not the smoothie that I crave, rather I'm longing for the immunity boost that I hope will kill the evils terrorizing my senses. I walk out.

Down the dark street. Further like a tunnel. Gaining ground on the lake. Each way I face the winds slashes my face. I see a car speed on by cutting me off at an intersection. I would curse but I must save my breath for breathing. I am tired. And I am wounded. Finally, I'm in the building.

Open
Step in
Button
Close
Open
Step Out
and so on.

How many times have I gone through the motions? How many actions could I do blindfooded or drunk?

So this is my life.

posted by fillshe @ 8:55 PM