lately i've been losing my watch, taking it off at night in what must be unlikely places because i keep spending too much time in the morning peering through the curtained-in dark at every flat surface every piece of furniture in the house, & not finding it. then of course i come home from work & there it is, glinting at me.
the watch is clunky & bad-ass, with a fake leather metalpunk wrist cuff band that bean got for $10.00 at a Village storefront two years ago in new york. i love it fiercely with its scratched-up face. i feel naked & extra-thin without it.
it isn't even mine. it's hers. but she lets me wear it & i've been home for hours & still haven't come across it.
:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:this morning as i stepped on the bus i looked down into the street between sidewalk & step & wished i hadn't because i saw what looked, honestly, as if someone had taken a dead mouse & stuffed it into a condom & put it in the road for all the buses to run over & run over & run over. i saw teeth & two eyes & a pale latex ring. like my own personal Hate Art exhibition, for two seconds.
all morning i tried to think of what it could have been that would not have been what i read it as originally; & i couldn't think of any alternative, less disgusting possibilities.
:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:i am not d�rang�e. but i am slipping into a habit of reading whole novels in single-sitting runs, & taking my technically-expired-but-it-still-gets-me-a-discount student ID with me to the drexel whenever possible, & stringing necklaces with a vengeance. escapist, very-calm mania of sorts. plunge myself into anything. maybe i should be constructive & learn a dead language with all this escapist focus.
but i am very tired. & i know it would be easy to sleep instead of read. except i can't sleep at work. so i read instead.
