I wonder what I am.
A cloud of tobacco and marijuana smoke floating above a pool of whiskey, imported beer and micro-brewed beers
Hell; throw some caffeine and lexapro in that pool too
And a fluff of hair being held up by the smoke
I believe I frustrated the bartender just now
I’ve been driving all day and forgot how to interact with people
Ooops….
My lexapro was up’d today to 20mg/day from 10mg/day
I’m regaining my comfort with social situations as I sip on this sun-colored Oberon and inhale this rolled la finca; writing away what crosses my consciousness (is it even my consciousness?)
I love the heorot!
I sit on a golden shimmery slab of two-by-four crossed by a middle-aged couple half obsessed with menus and food and texting and half obsessed with absolutely nothing but suckling on the tit of a camel menthol, holding a chilled lager and looking off into nothingness/ “listening” to the other half of the couple.
Now this aforementioned couple is reared by another middle-aged couple with long hair, more interest in itself than the aforementioned and possessed with the rather socio-cultural norm of obesity.
To my starboard! Sits another couple: a couple with dos wankers, less hair than a tenth of the aforementioned couples, less body fat than a tenth of either of the aforementioned couples and stylishly, casually dressed.
The bar itself: lined with penises all the way up to the finale, where a rather obese blueberry of a vagina sits, topped with long brown locks in the form of a knot where the belly-button of the blueberry would normally be.
The air: full of masturbating musical chord progressions, a sad amount of haze, and the chit chit chatterin’ of a couple dozen lonely and tryin’-not-to-be-lonely individuals.
The bitch across from me is one of the lonely; asking “just met” inquisitions to the penis at her front.
Existence is a peculiar thing.
