I am all caffeinated up and I can hear the sounds of the south park boys coming from the lounge room.
Ash proceeds to door and shuts it. So he can but just hear the faint murmurs of the boys ripping on each other from the other room. He wants to be alone with his thoughts. But all he can think about is how bad his shirt and underarms smell and that maybe turning on the fan will cover the smell and cool his body. so his mind will just work that little bit better. He ponders whether his mind is like a CPU on a computer that will overheat and spit out garbage and fuck everything up, if he does not turn that fan on.
Ash turns in his chair and walks to the fan eloquently turning the knob to one. He is there, the bliss state of wind frolicking in his seventies-style hair do and his cooling brow, easing the stress on his temples. Alas still no ideas. Maybe tomorrow or later in the night when he becomes delirious in the hours just before dawn when he has those silly thoughts. So playfully he plucks them out of his mind like grapes off the vine.
He longs to be happy. He longs to feel again.



~ by abagash on February 4, 2008.

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