January 2005 / Volume VI / Issue I
Scott Taylor

amorphous mumbling

            Have to get back to basics.  There was a time when I wrote because I wanted to, because there was nothing but empty white space.  So here I am.

            (goes to bathroom to take leak, goes to fridge to get Busch)

            The apartment smells like garbage.  I just took it out, it is ridiculous for an apartment to continue smelling like garbage long after the garbage has been removed from it.

            I sit here at the computer once again, and type aimlessly.  Fucking absurd.  I am trying to be humorous, but I feel homicidal.

            Neck pain in the way, neck pain sitting on me and saying, “Go ahead, make my day!”

            “Born of natural ingredients, smooth, refreshing beer”

            I signed off on Kris.  She will probably be mad.  She is a human, however, after all.

            The nights were never like this before.  I used to sleep for largish chunks at a time.  Now I sleep for fifteen minutes at a time.  Get up, get an ice cream, check e-mail, sit on the floor, pick my nose.  So many things to do.

            10:29

            pm

            Guitars laugh at me now

            Listened to my tape tonite, the 2nd one.  Don’t think it’s that bad.  Hate the world.

            Sit with wounded neck on back of fashionable computer chair, sweat pants and nothing else, diddling myself carelessly.  Couple cans lying around.  Nothing else.  No plans for tomorrow.  Perhaps will start drinking at noon.

             12 string in the bedroom, 6 string in living room guarding the balcony door, bass in closet (on stand), Les Paul on stand by chess board that no one uses.

            I like chess.  I also like tennis, when it doesn’t bother the shit out of me.  I am very ashamed of my lack of self-control when it comes to my emotions.  If they would just give me cocaine, we wouldn’t have these problems.

            Such a fine line, such a tightrope act.  Everything.  One moment, you could be a rico suave gentlemen with everything on your side, the next moment you could slip up, say the wrong thing, wind up in jail or exile or a box or something.

            Bathtub has fucking strange angle at the back, forces me to bend my neck at obscene angle, would break my neck even if I wasn’t an invalid.  I try to read Crime and Punishment in there, and can only get through a chapter at a time because if it.
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