Wire-less

When the Internet connection failed me I couldn't rely on my DVD player, which couldn't play my scratched DVDs, and I had to give up on my scrambled cable, especially with nothing on the basic channels, no new news, and radio stations that could only play songs that talked about losing it all, similar to the books on my nightstand that read you to sleep, which was all my skunked beer was good for, no taste, similar to the cloths in my closet which weren't that dramatic, no flare, and the music on my mp3 that didn't really have anything to say, and the cell phone with no one to call because everyone was asleep and no text messages received from those same asleep people, or my girlfriend who is cranky and doesn't want to talk, or my lazy guitar with two snapped strings, wire less, or my pornography that has unappealing women, or soccer magazines with washed-up stars who looked like they've been walking for about 1,000 years, like my running shoes which were falling apart and teetering, unuseful, especially when it's cold and all I have is undramatic cloths, no thermal underwear, and my mind was teetering, like my roommate playing his game of poker, all in, like my life in this life on this craziest world, the craziest that I'd ever seen.

Moments Alone

In the moments alone you find time to think about yourself.
Cyclical world spins. For a moment your brain does not.
Sitting there, in the bar, waiting for a friend, I let my brain unravel and tangle up with myself.
I wonder how long I'll wait for him, here, and wonder if I should get a drink.
I think I should get a drink. The bartender is pretty -- blonde har, blue eyes -- and makes it worthwhile to stand and wait, looking at her while waiting.
I wonder if my boss really thinks I'm valuable. I wonder if my job is necessary. I think I'm valuable. Maybe he thinks the others are more valuable, more necessary. Is thinking about this unnecessary, counter-productive? The others are kind of insincere, I think. At least I mean well when I try. I try. I've tired hard for a long time. It's been too long a time since I've had an easy time, I think. I think that I wish I could find momentum in my life. It's hard to get rolling up hill. That's what acceleration is for, though. Or a push from others. I think that I'm really tired of the others around me. Not help up the hill, that's the problem. It's hard to like them these days. No loyalty. No sincerity. I think that I'm sincere. Too much ill-intention on their part. Lunar, dark personalities, not solar. What ever happened to good intentions? What ever happened to friends? What ever happened to manners? Backstabbing makes me so angry, I think as I order a drink. A beer. Maybe I should have ordered something stronger, to dull it all, the emotion. I'm so angry. I've got a light bulb full of anger, and I can switch it on an off. That's what Mr. Johnson said. He was right and it fits me perfectly. Trouble is, even when you know when to turn the anger off, it's still there. Present. Maybe the alcohol will help, I think. It has a good way of numbing emotion. I drink.
I'm so angry at the world for spinning me out of control.
I'm so angry at my friend for being late. My job for being so insignificant.
I'm so disappointed my girlfriend cheated on me.
Maybe the alcohol will numb it, I think.
Lunar erupts and solar fades. The night gets darker, I think. I drink. Alone. Waiting for someone who doesn't want to seem to show up.
Music plays from the ceiling. I tap my shoes in rhythm and close my eyes. I close my eyes and my mind stretches like a blanket around me. It stretches my moment alone.
Then I open them to the world. The night says hello as the day says goodbye while the night meets its death somewhere else somewhere across some other sea.
I wish I was at that new day. I guess I'll just wait for my sun to rise.
The alcohol helps.