This Week Never Happened

Looking back at the last seven days is pointless, but I’m doing it anyway. Monday was nothing but rain. Tuesday I think Two and a Half Men was on somewhere. Wednesday the bathroom light died. Thursday is basically gone. And now it’s Friday, which means I need to come up with reasons to forget any of it happened.

Tomatoes in the living room. Calling everyone on Facebook and dumping all my half-baked wisdom on them. That game where you replace every G with an H—doesn’t fix anything but I’d try it. Beating up some Nazis, if I’m feeling that energy.

There’s an interview about Lara I should listen to, some psychedelic nightmare she went through. The kind of shit you don’t want sitting in your head, but at least she got out of it.

Food as a tool. Eat the right things and your shit comes out gold glitter. Apparently that’s what we’re all chasing. Music. Just get music. Keep getting it. Music forever. That’s not a terrible way to live.

The dog needs a walk. Thirteen years in a basement isn’t kind to anything. That moment alone in your house where the door stays unlocked because the danger is the point. Adrenaline doing half the work.

If Mike and Kelly are around, maybe we end up dancing to something that shouldn’t exist. Just looking at each other while it plays. Eyes locked. Garbage pouring out of speakers.