in a bed of ash, a welcome depression, a self-serving depression wears him down to a sour-sleep – the sleep saps and tricks his brain into thinking there is nothing, and that's enough – around his room, he hears cars and birds and house-mates, and radios and tvs and doorbells, and microwave and doing the dishes – but he wraps himself up tighter in the thick blankets that are as cold as clouds
you haven’t eaten in forty-eight hours – you tried, just to make your friends happy, only to gag-down a piece of chicken – but that wasn’t eating – that wasn’t food – the phone next to your bed of ash rings in dust – and you ignore it, embracing your selfish and pathetic sulk – you want nothing to do with anyone and you have no idea of who are or, or who you’re supposed to be to them – you imagine their concern for you, and it makes you feel better for nothing more – nothing is working in your favour, and there is nothing you can do about it – you’re riding a train of wrong turns and it’s too late for everything
they’re gone – chasing the sun down to a bar-room full of friends and friends of friends – carefree and careless and by-passing all the meditation in the world to find themselves living this one direct moment with the thoughtless help of cheap and cold beer – he lies on the coach, scanning a collection of typical dvds that tire and bore his mind – he put himself through the opening credits and the opening few scenes of a movie starring Robert de niro, before turning it off – putting himself in a position where there is nothing more to do but stare at the ceiling and walls in your his silence – nothing occupying anything except for his endless doubts, his pessimistic assumptions, and his self-hatred
and so you saddle on up and take seat, carefully avoiding eye-contact as you order yourself a beer - the weight of your miserable thoughts drowns out the pathetic and generic music playing through the speakers on the peeling ceiling of this, the same old bar - running your hands through your hair, you occupy yourself, making yourself flustered and heated - you drink your beer too quickly, ordering another one and feeling guilty and embarrassed - a young attractive girl with dark hair sits at a table by herself and reads a book, taking notes - drinking her drink she exudes a confidence that makes you feel sick - you take another long hard sip of your third beer, desperate for it's effects to dull your senses and thoughts to a bland nub
walking down the street, he taunted the cars to swerve violently and crash into him - to put him out of his misery with a near future death out of his control - he wouldn't mind and he wouldn't care and he'll finally be free of endless circles of predictability of life - with each step he took he took a step towards another pointless conversation about something he didn't care about - towards another little thing to do on the endless list of things to do - oblivious to the outside world streaming by him, he drowned his thoughts with the approaching realisation that he simply didn't want to do it anymore
swimming in a an orange haze of confusion, you stumble as you return to your seat to order another beer - the kind and understanding manner in which it is suggested to you that you've probably had enough depletes you - you know they're right, you just don't want to go home - you just don't want to go to bed and you don't want to go to sleep - it's a torturous necessity - against your will, you thank them with a slur for their well-meaning guidance and you stumble your way to the door - the cold night air forces you to realise just how hot and sweaty you really are - the chilled rainy air spikes itself into your sticky lungs as you turn instinctively to the direction home - the streets are full of screams and yells and life that you ignore - staggering and bumping into them, you blink your eyes to focus and wake up at least a little bit - on the other side of the road you see some sense that you'll forget by tomorrow morning - something you never used to do - you focus on the red and blue flashing lights in an attempt to try and remember - however, your certain your mind will just process the chaos as just another bad day for someone else you don't know
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