taking it easy and having it taken out on you

an older couple walked up and sat next to me this morning while i was sitting in the park watching people hurry off to work.
the man had a furry little beard that made him look comical, like a stuffed animal version of an old man. he even had the little hat.
his wife wore a yellow spring jacket and some blue jeans. i didn't really pay them much attention.
but then all of a sudden i felt some one else's voice was trying to come up out of my throat. i could feel the air being pushed out, i started to panic and choke a little bit.
i looked around with wide panicked eyes because i thought i needed some help. but i saw the old woman and could see that it was her talking and not me at all.
i just felt her voice in my throat and it tried to kill me. they got up and hurried along. i thought about the neighbours in Rosemary's Baby.

all you need is love

so this is the life of an adult

looking through my books so i can find some that i'm sure i'll never  read again in a pathetic effort to try and sell them to a bookstore so i can get enough money to buy a coffee from the corner store so i can steal sugar and milk so i can drink the discount instant coffee i use as the crutch to get through the day.

whats better then an epiphany?

being unemployed and drinking instant coffee with creamers stolen from the café on the corner. thats when you know you're on the right track. because it beats having to slowly kill yourself.

although a simpler life seems fine when i daydream i'd probably end up getting a rash

i'd say that it was about five minutes after i got out of bed that it happened. there was a feeling in the air that wasn't the thick humidity. from somewhere in the hall there was a real guttural scream. the kind you have to open your mouth all the way to let it out or it can fuck up your face for ever. but it sounded like it hurt the asshole, like he never knew it was coming. 

seconds after there was this loud crash. i imagined a huge block of grey concrete falling from the sky and landing on the metal stairs outside my apartment. it was so loud i actually got up from sitting on the couch (staring at nothing) with the idea of going to see if whoever was out there was alright. maybe it was the shock and reverberations from the commotion but it turned me into someone i'm not. 

about three feet from the door i gave up. i came to my senses. it didn't concern me. this is the city. everyone fucks their neighbours. 

when i went out to get some bread for my breakfast there was a policeman standing at the bottom of the stairs. he was casually chatting on his cell phone. like this was exactly where he was supposed to be. at the bottom of this stair case at this time. and i was supposed to be walking down. and we were supposed to give each other shit eyes as i walked by. 

when i came back the police were in the apartment below mine sawing the drywall and cracking concrete. they were searching for something. so it wasn't a block of cement falling. it was the sound of a steel door being broken down at eight thirty in the morning. a blonde police woman said bon matin to me. i looked away and kept my mouth shut. 

if i counted up all the best moments in my life most of them wouldn't have any humans involved.

standing in some bushes

i took a piss with a dog.

like, we started and stopped at the same time as one another. 

(weird right?)

at first i was all like

get the fuck outta of here! 

but i looked in his eyes

and he looked into mine. 

the piss kept pissing. 

everything melted away.

there was nothing but me and the dog and the piss. 

no universe

no job

no home

no people.

just piss. 

and it was the nicest thing that's happened in a long time. 

regardless of all the greyness there's still some beauty left

i walked up a side street i'd never been on before. nothing special, just houses and people doing yard work. it ended on rue notre dame ouest, right by the reptile emporium and the strip club and the dollar store.
i could see him from about a block away. he was sitting on some steps in front of a door painted dark copper. the paint was peeling.
he was an old bum. his hair was white and hung down around his head like long greasy fingers. he was laid back in a way that made you think he had it all figured out. he was propped up on his elbows and had his left leg crossed long over his right knee.
(people walking by had to make allowance for his dangling foot)
when i got closer i saw that his face had the rough skin of an alcoholic who spends all his time outdoors. his eyes were rolled up into the back of his head and he was muttering an indecipherable language just loud enough to hear if you strained and gave a shit to listen.
(he could've been possessed)
but he laid there on those old concrete steps and looked like a king; a man with more class then all the people that ignored him combined.

we've had to make some real tough choices*

if all your heroes went mad,

committed suicide

or just drank themselves to death what chance do you have?

probably a poor one.

but you can try and prove them wrong.



*title taken from a recent letter of rejection.

in defence of leaving the house

i went to the grocery store this morning. i saw two different men in customized, or wacky hats.

1 - it was a dark/forest green baseball hat. what made me notice it was a brown - can really only describe it as a blob - stuffed thing sticking up out of one of the holes in the hat designed to let out head heat. then i noticed that there was all kinds of shit attached to it. buttons and a plush bee. bits of metal attached to the brim. he even had a little tiny disco ball hanging from the back that swung into his neck like a beautiful wrecking ball with every step he took. but it didn't wreck him. other then that he was dressed like a board member of ducks unlimited. his only freedom of expression his hat.

2 - the other wacky hat was on a man with a singular vision of fashion. he looked like what most people would call crazy. he had a grey striped shirt open to the waist, a silver chain on his chest, white pants and white shoes and he stood beside a bike spray painted white - wheels, chain, everything - and had wrapped his seat and back spokes in aluminum foil, giving the bike a futuristic/space age look. his hat was one of those straw types that look like a cowboy hat but are usually seen being worn by tourists in hot climates, or come free in a case of corona. the hat, like the bike, was white and he'd taken a silver christmas garland and wrapped it around the base of the part your head goes into and it rested on the brim. i thought, now here goes a motherfucker with some style.


some days give you more then enough reasons to love everything.

these are the days of high emotions and total gratification

earlier today i was walking around and i had a funny feeling in the back of my neck, a little itch. i looked up and saw a family in a nice, expensive looking car. they were staring at me. their faces all twisted up, they way you grimace in horror when you see something disgusting. you know, like an animal smeared across the pavement, or when you slip in a fresh pile of shit? and as i looked at them, scowling myself, i thought that it sure is nice to be able to interact with other humans on a regular basis.