maireandhsi

it seemed i should move the mattress to a different place. a more suitable part of the house. unexpectedly closer to where people died. but at the very least, far enough from where they had lived to induce some of my latent narcoleptic tendencies. this, naturally. rather, unnaturally was a decision exposing it's mildy unflattering screen door brown silhouetted form as a result of my wandering about too much that night. and eventually being relatively beside myself with liquor sloshing in my stomach.
i should stop picking fights with knives.
the mice are hungry tonight. they fall into the trash. making half hearted attempts at escape while chewing on something day old or week old or month old. but new to them. which is the important thing really. and completely immersive. like when children talk of magic and genies and all this affording a gentle touchdown in piles of money or nude women or favorites. but i suppose we all may have been there. or else we would not all be here. foolishly playing mash still.
but somehow. these limply executed high jumps for the rim immediately turn to staggering displays of will and instinct and determination. that is, of course, as the squeals from the floorboards draw nearer. perched atop a recently surmounted obstacle, this tiny he or she pauses. with an accusatory stare, implying offense in my observation of the effort, i can almost hear English words struggling through pointy little incisors. " my absurdity and pathos is matched only by your own."
it's fortune. who is ever stumbled upon in their finest moment. in states of incredible fear. in human states. i must admit my envy.