Isn't it all? Made up of animal bits
or poison? Isn't it all?
conveyor belts. mustard stains.
inch by inch. soul by soul.
the grin of a dead child in the bathtub.
None of this is good for us.
My first post was set on a shaky foundation. As I was finishing up, and ready to post I somehow punctured my foot with a mechanical pencil. With an empty stomach and intense fear of flesh-eating viruses the adrenaline rush made the room go dark for a moment. As I laid back down I noticed my update was still sitting published. So in a slight haze I pressed "post". It's really funny how the exact moment I'm trying to make it as an internet writer, my tool of choice comes up to bite me in the ass, and stab me in the foot. Do I smell irony?That's my poor little foot, the skin that's flipped back was shoved underneath and I had to dig it out with a needle. Fuck mechanical pencils.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment