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The long day sauntered into night as I wandered from place to place. Exhausted by the ceaseless rattling of my brain, too tired to listen, I set my back to it and just watched. Strawberry flavored girls drifted by in groups of three, a cat poked his nose into every doorway, bypassing mine and actually hissed at Henry, playing guitar with a cup jammed on to the stump of his left arm.
I didn't think about it, I saw it. The distinction is something I have missed, in my life.

Chase your muse and it disappears, but ignore it and walk away and you can hear, coming behind, faint footsteps that house no body. Ray Bradbury gave me that one.

Today I paid some bills and was discouraged to see what it costs me to be me. Troubling, that I pay for this kind of existence. Troubling more, that if I want to break even I'll have to do what I know will kill me. Time to disappear. Time to fade into the background and wait for a strawberry flavored girl to come by and offer me a ride.

Sometimes, I just close my eyes and stop breathing.