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apathy is harder than it looks
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28.4.03
The images blur by. Going somewhere I haven't heard of with people I hardly really know, I sigh. I squint out the window in attempt to make sense of the smeared bright landscape. My focus shifts from one objects to another: some near, some far. Soon I become enthralled with the entricate pattern of the beige molded plastic door. Bored, I move on to other sights. Eventually, I start to let my senses melt. I coil into thoughts that please me. Pondering what other people think while riding in cars, I stuff my face with brownies of self-satisfaction and superiority because I am capable of thinking like other people. I chew and chew; too proud to swallow. The taste festers as bacteria convert in from a velvety sugary treat into a malady of rot comparable to feces. When I can take no more I frantically roll down the window and spew my racid past upon the world. As I bring my head, flushed with life, my eyes grasp hers. They dive from my barren body and splash into her soul.
21:29
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