scotch and coke

to feel disconnected.

moving through dice. steps made automated, or traveling backwards. all steps toward nowhere, or arching back towards there own origin. a lack of progress feels like a failure, but a typical step forward equally losing and unsatisfying. not caring for spelling. growing fat and tired, sleeping all day. not crying or crying out, just feeling like you missed the bus. you tell yourself the truth- the bus wasn't going uptown, and it smells like piss and cum on that fucker anyway. this moves you further away from reason. unhappy friends call from the bus. they are unhappy and they say it smells like piss and cum.

collapsing under the weight of your own dogma. i killed god with no guilt, but tired of explaining his rotting corpse to the neighbors. e.g. scooters, vacation, fall. a single pad of butter. the appeal of sationary, a nice pen, the click of keys. blown headphones.

ludicrous moments falling onto one another like collected change. if there was a machine where i could cash them in for some sort of spiritual voucher. the other kind of spirit, the intellectual, human one, not the garbage ghost jesus one.