Not much better. Read this morning apparently. I was miserable an hour ago. No idea what to do at work, it all seems to be piling up into an impossible logjam, everything that I put off until Friday is now put off until Monday.
Two beers can only do so much. Forget it. Forget it for now. Work mind, life line, face down, head down, corporate clown, constant frown, quick smile, lots of style, the ruse, to amuse and self-preserve, the veneer is thin, the man within, dissolving, his salt soaked in torrents, waves of hypocrisy, duplicity. A salty smile, a plastic style, is this it? Is this what everyone does or is there, are there people who believe this? I’m so much different here in my internal discourse, of course, no recourse to honesty. I have thought about starting a poem but I have no idea how to express, this scribbling is more fore effect (fore?) for, for effect since it looks odd to sit and stare and drink your beer, but that is all I want to do. Instead I pretend to compose in my angle of un-repose, head bent and hand waving, ink spilling in random thought distilling – distilling? No, not really distilling, it is thought vomit, it is whatever electrical impulse emanates from brain to limb to fingertip leading to this (he paused) to what? To this SCRAWL
A favorite word – scrawl, rhymes with all, ball, thrall, fall, call, maul, awl, AWL? AUL, huh? Lost the thread, instead, fed a, hungry, fed a famished – head? This make sno sense nor should it nor need it, this is my way of exorcizing (and exercising does the same) work thoughts. I can, although I just didn’t, I can stop that shit with this shit, but that shit won’t go away. I aye, aye, ay, aay, yaai, yai yai, blocuumunim! An exclamation point at the end of jibberish. Yes, I got to something. An exclamation point at the end of nothing, an exclamation point at the end of nonsense. Nunsense (wasted ink) nothing to think just constant R constrict constraint, construction, constaint, taint, constanit, constanit? Constant scrawsl scribble, dribble, drabble babble. Go away, go far away. Less than half a beer then I fear a bus, a book, people, my neighbor, war, no, boring? False? Strained? I just don’t know some people I just don’t want to talk to or I just can’t or my initial reticence leads to a falseness that can’t be rectified – rectified? Did I scrawl that before – rectified – he tried to abide by those who lied, he spied and eyed his ride departed uncharted, he started but led instead to false premises on pretenses, post tenses, past tenses, pluperfect tennis is a great sport I should play more of, again, play stay day way rectify, try to stop rectifying justifying amolsphying amolsophying – moisturizing, what is that word?
What is that word? What is that magical word? No, though, you’d know, so, go, grow, blow, a brain cell or a million, million, what rhymes with million billion trillion zillion fillyin sillyon, onion, funnion, blah blah blah, la te da, wha? Wha? What the hell?
I don’t know what I’ve been doing – good, that’s all I wanted.