Lapse of Much

Objective blogs are fascinating. A friend of mine writes about poetry he finds; another about political things. They have that focus.

By my title I should be writing about being vegan.

Well, being vegan is rough when one does not have time or initiative. Or when one is addicted to the morphine in cheese. Anyway.

My New Year's resolution was to not buy anything. It's been working, although I need to cut back on eating out (that's such a slippery slope). And when I say "it's been working," I mean that I've been able to pay for grad school stuff with only a small loan from my parents. Can I pay my rent? Those bills? No, no...I'm broke. The brokest I've been.

And I feel everything lapsing, lapsing, collapsing into a gushing pile of stench and mold. It fills my nostrils, my mouth, and sputtering doesn't get the gunk cleared from my esophagus.

The Stuff is suffocating me, stifling me, I feel the need to burn things or donate things or throw stuff out irresponsibly to just feel cleaner and in control and less weighed down. I should run, yes. Run till my smoky lungs cry and my legs whimper and my numb hands throb with shame. Only a couple blocks.

"Iron and Wine" always puts me in a mood. And waiting. I hate it. I can hear the rocks coming and I just don't know when their shit will ejaculate painfully over me. Damn these shady mountain passes.