At night, I used to feel like things made sense, but now I just want the day to come faster. I sleep less so that I wake up faster. I used to say that my life was a Tom Waits song, but now I feel like a Modest Mouse song. To wit, "It's the same on the weekends as the rest of the days. And I know I should go, but I'll probably stay. And that's all you can do about some things. I'm trying to drink away the part of the day that I cannot sleep away." I look around the house and realize that it's already dark and that I've been up for 14 hours and yet I am surprised that the daylight is gone. My living room smells like oranges and Jolly Ranchers and smoke and yet I cannot get rid of the need to fill the air and my eyes and my brain with stimulus. I'm going to stay inside from now on, I'm going to just let this couch be my ship on the stormy seas of life. I have tried to open the galley and now I realize that it's time to batten down the hatches and drink and devil had done for the rest. No one's gonna be left standing and all I want to do is lie down and let my head just stop ringing for a bit. I'm shocked that the weekend is over, but nowadays, there is no real need to look forward to anything. I used to give myself little rewards and small goals but now, I've done everything I ever wanted to do and now, I float, and I drift, and I think sometimes it's best to insulate myself inside the walls of my never-paid for castle. Bill collectors are the only people who seem to stay in touch with me, but all they really ever want to talk about is when they're gonna get paid. I try and ask them about the weather or what they think about the latest movie show, and all they want to say is that I owe them $450. And that's what my life has come down to. Who I owe what to, what I have to work toward, and when I will pay them. Because that's what it's really all about. First they only wanted time, but they really didn't, and now, they only want the balloon payment at the end of the failed rainbow. And now I keep seeing the same pictures with different headlines and new abbreviations. "Run from the pigs, the fuzz, the cops, the heat. Pass me your gloves, theres crime and its never complete." Everyone knows my name. And all I want to do is find something that erases my mind and starts me over. I can't give anyone what they want and no one has the cure for the diseases that ail me on a per 15 minute basis. But outside the leaves are turning colors and I like that, I can go with that, I'll cling to that today. They fall to the ground, being leaves, because that's all they know how to do.

Photo - N
Words - S