Wine in a Soda Can

Mmh . . . God. Pack up and watch somebody else? Hold a gun to my head and force me into submission . . . force me to pay attention, or blow my brains all over this notebook page.

Maybe then the words I want will flow out of me—rampant like a disease—eating at the pigment of a memory I re-live, day to day,
but I'm not the only one.


MY HEAD IS A PIPE BOMB


There are approximately 6,808,651,482 people in the world,
Each one of them at some point feels the same stagnant monotony.


Contempt can lead to regret.


I regret nothing.