Nov 27, 2007 10:49
No Cell Phones Or Drinks
A spilled cup of coffee. Power out. Bitch at the quick-mart counter. After math of sleeping pills, miserable loneliness and forgotten mood pills. I am in certain funk..
Bob Dylan, ex-boyfriend-that-left-me-for-another-girl techno-texts, quiet bathroom sniffling. God I hate this certain funk.
A class critique of my short story. Serious debt, rent to pay and a cell phone bill. A restaraunt dead after football season. An apartment dedicated to fucked up movies, sports and weed. A longing for home. Certain funk completely ruling my day.
Painful peeling off the bed sheets. Fiesty cat wanting to play at 5am,6am,before I catch the bus. No money for cigarettes. Rolled ones not doing it. Jamican boy pinning me on the futon, wrenching kisses from my lips. 'No no no no no no' did not work. This certain funk is inviting shit.
'no no no no no no no no' Another guy gunning for me. He forgets that I can't stand him. A giant paper due by friday. Pulling doubles everyday. No resources. This certain funk must fucking die.