seriously, it was like that when i got there. dust, animal hair, general disorder- in that had it not all been un-disordered i could at least point out a cocked lampshade or a maimed couch cover. blurs...
and then just like that: things are looking up, and the animal hair doesn't bother you because you have allergy pills now. you buy "Dust-off", abusing it to just blow the layers elsewhere or onto the floor, specifically. Forget the Pledge wipes you have under the sink. Youre, what's the word, compensating... and then you think about that saying, "Your room is proportionate to the state of your mind." With that, the pile of laundry is taking on a whole new meaning. (I won't say which one.) the spider in the corner you've let live bcs it collects flies bcs you leave your window open bcs you can't not have that warm night/cool morning breeze- with clarity makes you think maybe i know mercy after all, or ambivalence, and then when you vacuum the spiders up bcs it's just how things should be- makes you feel crueler than you ought to be. and then a whole essay on spiders issues from your mind. (i can't be bothered to write it) and webs and mucks every-thing up. so you decide to damn the saying and think about something other than nature- maybe paint the walls a dusty plum or learn woodworking.
you watch tv, and think possibly- this is safer instead.
eschews,
mendacious.
No comments:
Post a Comment