Wake up before the sun
Paint the sky with clouds
Sail through light, through shade, through shadow, through mutating colors
Dance in the dawn’s friscalating sunrise
Wander aimlessly through shreds of your own memories, your own dreams, your own fantasies, the water below you a colored mirror of cloud, pandemonium on its lips, spectrums of chaos racing across its palate
You woke in an abrasion of morning anxiety, then sat in the back of the car and waited for it to disseminate into the sobriety of a midday spent waiting, waiting, waiting for the night to begin
Finally signaling and end to the relentless monotony of office life, of rote tasks meaninglessly executed
And all the petty fears, the petty annoyances, the hates, the burns, the frustrations, the stupid meaningless words and empty gestures that tie together this dollhouse, poorly stitched, in which we all play our roles,
Here we are again, watching the advertisements and secretly, unconsciously wishing we were them, that we had those retarded jobs, that we could take on those stupid roles at least once, just for a moment, and live that flesh fantasy
Like anything could actually approach the sexiness of a Hollywood projection
No, we will go on
We will thrash forward with something that bears resemblance to cold grey steel and concrete
Worn wood and leather, cold machines, working without wifi connections
No longer directed by the mother ship
No longer in communicado with our source
Cheap pants and shirts, discount jackets, jeans, ties, knit hats, cheap suits, scarves, 15% off MUNI rides, armpit hair, coffee breath, 2 for 1 dinner specials, frozen pizza, Netflix, Facebook
What more is a life composed of than these mundanities?
What more can we lay claim to—the things we fuel and cloth ourselves with, the tickets we buy and pin on our jackets
Our coat checks, our baggage claims, our incense carriers.
What more? What more? What more?
If the sun is bothering you, just let me know. Just let me know.
