sometimes, my head explodes

ejecta July 15, 2008

Filed under: hell is other people — somniare @ 11:35 pm

A series of excerpts. That is my day. I sit down and reflect by default alone and recall only segments… a day summarized by moments. Today my excerpt is reminiscent of debris.

Rarely does a day go by where any second is more special than the last… essentially all that I encounter becomes a pile of steaming garbage with the occasional glint of light off of a rusting soup can or the overpowering redolence of the nearest discarded infant diaper.

Anyone with true rummaging experience (admit it, you’ve done it), knows that there is the occasional gem to be found amidst the waves of decaying waste. A twenty dollar bill, an invaluable antique only mistaken for trash, a seemingly untouched piece of furniture discarded by an obviously fortunate individual with no need to be reimbursed upon refurnishing their abode. This takes much time and effort to achieve whilst sifting through wreckage and refuse… and one would most certainly walk away exhausted, filthy, and reeking of shame. I have to admit, I am a garbage picker of humanity.

The sad fact is that I often walk away empty handed. After a long day of interactions and social endeavors, I have nothing more than a sigh of defeat. The equivalent of the multilevel disgust I would feel at discovering a litter of dead kittens in a broken down cardboard shoebox.

So much stupidity… so little energy to paint it the cutesy color of naivety. Idiocy has one shade… and it is shit brown. Ah, hell with it, I’ll be generous and offer the second and third options of sewage green or flesh-rot gray. Make a note of that, Crayola.


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