Today will be the day you decide not to tie one of your shoes. All day. You'll just leave it. You'll be walking down the street in the evening, every other step accompanied by a light, plastic click-click, and you'll find the sound inexplicably comforting. You'll find yourself more than usually enwrapped in your more than usually inane thoughts. You'll imagine that you are the mother of a girl about to go off to college; you'd say, "Now, if the roommate they place you with is fat, you should try to gain some weight. Its only polite." You'll get home, and you'll only feel like eating fruit. You're not trying to be healthy; its just all you feel like. You'll try pouring some gin on a cube of watermelon, but you wont like it, so you wont do that again; it's just the fruit you want. A bunch of grapes on the vine. A couple medium-sized apples. You'll remember making a pipe out of an apple a long, long time ago (last week), and this will lead you to coming up with a brilliant concept for a smoking device. If you really pursued it you could probably make a lot of money. You wont though, because: A) You don't smoke that much pot anymore; and B) You smoked enough pot in the past to make you lazy enough to not seize an opportunity.
Once full, you'll untie your shoe (the one that you had tied), and take it off. You'll leave the other one on for a while. No, that's stupid. Take that shit off.
Stare at your blank computer screen for a long time. You have no emails waiting for you, nor is anyone waiting for an email from you. This is for the best. You don't feel like communicating tonight. You feel like staying in, being quiet, and masturbating. Your neighbors all think you're a really lousy lover, because you're extremely loud when you masturbate, and they pretty much always only hear one voice (except for when you actually are having sex with someone, which they dismiss as a fluke), and they don't believe that it could be just one person simply masturbating, because who makes that much noise while just masturbating? You do, that's who. You've arrived at the point where you don't care what the neighbors think. You, unlike the vast majority of the American populace, have outgrown the trauma of childhood masturbatory paranoia, and good for you. You fucking howl when you come, and your masturbation is all the better for it. You beat the system.
Your pants around your ankles, hop to the bathroom to wash your hands. That done, take your pants off. Your feet are a bit cold now, though, so put your shoes back on (but don't tie either of them this time; you're not going anywhere). Floss your teeth. Water your plant and rotate its pot (so it doesn't grow at an angle). You like your plant a lot. It's hard to believe that it took you two and a half years to get it.
(The mystery of life is long and cavernous, and the tributaries are explorable and infinite. Seek.)
-BR 1.18.2006 1.01am
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