Art Intimidating Life: The Ruins of my Mental Empire - Part Thirty-Three

neon lights and petrol stations - rain and roads and the slash as cars drive by, one by one - the indescribable misery one feels when it's abnormally darker outside than usual - the loneliness of a tired saturday night - thursday's temptation - the imagined whinning of a possible bedroom mosquito - the thoughts of fish - the confusion of nocturnal animals - the invisible growth of suburban trees - the left-overs of a family-dinner you missed - the dancing curtains on windy afternoons - a coincidence mutually agreed to be best left unsaid - your best friend's favourite song - your memory - the way a young man wears his uniform after work - a nice tie - your mum's life - your fear of death - the comfortable itchiness of a woolen jumper - the predictable daily rotation of earth - your next-door neighbour's perfect dive into a backyard swimming pool - the silence of a peak-hour train - the possibility of life on other planets - the moon's effect on the ebb and flow of the tides - this beach one billion years ago - the formation and wobble of green jelly - plants and shadows - a newspaper delivery - your effect on everyone around you - the instinct of insects - being alone in a room somewhere - using someone else's toilet - skimming randomly through a newspaper - the disappointment of sleeping in - a restless tongue - the tolerated snoring of a loved-one - the right place, at the right time - eavesdropping - burning firewood - making good time - a welcome light - a clean shave - useful tools and a job-well done - dreams and hypothetical riches - the fractiousness of a grandmother's kitchen - the static and crackle of am radio - the lazy drift of clouds - the realisation that it's not raining anymore - an anticipated phone-call - a warm scarf with a tough jacket - soup - a comfortable silence matched with a mutual appreciation - the well grooved folds of a second-hand newspaper - meeting your friend's new boyfriend - riding a bike, nice and slow - one thousand butterflies - a two dollar coin surrounded by fifty and twenty cent coins - sitting at the bar, a long long way from home - feeling happy and listening to the blues - leaving for the airport at four in the morning - arriving at the train station and seeing that you have a 3 minute wait - a quick bite to eat on the street as people walk by oblivious to you and your lunch - seeing someone you know on the street, and deciding to let them go and leave them be - the second after you wake up, realising it's saturday - going to bed completely exhuasted - the slow cold stare of a tree-high possom as you arrive home late at night - good news on the news on the news as you eat dinner on the couch - the song you'd forgotten about on your favourite album that you hadn't listened to in years - a bottle of expensive champagne, shared, enjoyed and drunk, for no reason whatsoever - a lift home with a friend of a friend - drifting in and out of sleep on the couch in a gentle fog of confusion - mindless scribllings on scrap paper as you talk on the phone to someone you see every day - hearing someone talk in their sleep - the simple happiness of household pets - the smell of sunshine and beer inside a local pub - buying rounds - the empty promises of best friends - a passing comment you adapt into life-long advice - pulling up a chair - the homely stains on the carpet