pre-packaged angst (bottled, microwaveable)

The way to get to the root is to give yourself a boot, and then it's clear what it is you fear.

I make you laugh; you are evil, you have no soul. She takes it in stride. "I understand your silence, but I can’t fathom why you put up with me..."

This reads like a bad diary entry:

I’m sorry this is like a bad diary entry

You are so pathetic. I could spill my guts to you. You don’t have an ego.

Promise we will always talk like this

I could live a whole year, just to talk once like this with you

I must look somewhere else

I am fighting the whole world out there

So what?

I need a haircut before I can do anything

I would never fall in love with hair

I think we should have a drink. I know a place on Baldwin street

I am too cold even to look at. One day I will get fat. All I can do is smile

You are in desperate need of a shot across the head

I never wanted to hurt anybody

You don’t need anybody; that’s what makes you a monster

You know it. Women are fickle. Women don’t last.

Men don’t change. Why won’t they change.

Are we not communicating properly?

The pulse in the city. Something grey inside her. Something needy, something empty. I need some response. I am over her; she no longer bothers me. I need to get around the issue. I need to be alone to write about this. I need to study the issue, to come to a clear conclusion.

I wanted to go into the abyss with my eyes open. I wanted to yell inside a beach shell. I wish only to touch your eyelash, and preserve your beauty in a jar. I cannot imagine a sunset without the laughter I gave you. Primped and faulty and jarred awake after a seismic clutch. Poured out with all my emotion, I have no giant plan, I have no right to ask you a favour. But I need that money, I need it so bad. I'm stuck here in a basement, with lawnmowers spitting diesel.

Look out, I have touched a spark, I have the kindling. Look away from the pin hole during an eclipse. Stare open-lidded at the sun.

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